Dante's personal Hell
by Blue-Wolf-Ethan
Summary: V/D,angst,fluff,violence,lemony.Trish sighed:He was like a living corpse throughout the last 2 months but then i mention his brother being in danger and he is all raving and kicking ass.
1. A bolt from the blue

**Dante's personal Hell**

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**Important babbling:**

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**Fandom:** Devil May Cry

**Author: **Ethan

**Beta: chap 01 - Lady Luce, Chap02 and further on – Tora-Katana, and the word almighty**

**Betad over: Nimlinven, thanks for the marvelous detail and logic and general check! *kiss***

**Genre:** angst, drama, action, fluff (I guess that'll be the list)

**Pairing:** Vergil/Dante

**Rating:** PG to NC17

**Warnings:** Yaoi!, slight AU cause I had to fill in what capcom haven't yet. (alternative storyline not anymore?), OOC… You know, every Dante in every DMC is somehow OOC from the others. So this is just my version of him, I tried staying close to dmc3.

**Disclaimer:** not mine T_T, Capcom lucky but lazy guys.

**Внимание**! Теперь Личный Ад Данте на** фикбуке.** 0_0 приветствуем русскую версию!

**FULL SUMMARY, or rather WHAT TO EXPECT(skip if lazy):** this gets rather angsty sometimes with suicidal themes but i tried to dilute it with humour, and it always ends with the best things possible. My objective was to make them all suffer and then present Dante and Vergil with a pink - nope, rather black leather-y - happy end. its a joke, no serious bdsm here for now. my characters can have mental breakdowns and get their bodies into bloody mess, that they really tend to do. No matter who fucks whom, it is Vergil/Dante and none other, believe me! other-way fucks (there are few) are used for angst (what else, really?). and there is Angst with an **A**! not just 'i should go die', but i really tried to dig deep and explain things like vergil's craving for power, dante's run for vergil at the end of dmc3, all family issues... it is hell, but i tried to make this story as closely based on the original, as possible. what else... i am a hungry-for-reviews hamster. feed me?

**NOTES: Storyline**: I disregard DMC 4 and 2, 2 for not having Verge, 4 – for Nero. Until Capcom tells us who the hell he is. So forget there was such thing as the 4 game. I **LUV **Dante from part 3. Well, he's smokin' hot anywhere, but for YAOI – my choice is definitely the DMC3 punk. Or you can imagine him somehow slightly more mature (which makes a dmc1 Dante pop up in my head...). I hope he does mature as the story goes =P So, to save him his teenage-ness and youth, **timeline: **the events of DMC3 are considered to fit within a week, DMC1 takes place in a month after defeating Arkham and also is crammed in 1 week (seems possible to me). Approx 2 month after the end of DMC1 the fic starts. (and forget anime series. hell, I am into the original GAMES here.)

The story is only **closely based** on the original, small details may be twisted and a little bit different.

ANGST IN THE BEGINNING ENDS QUICKLY! – was written here. DON'T BELIEVE. But humour IS introduced.

"_italic_" – thoughts

'' - dialogue

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**Chap 01**

**A bolt from the blue**

As soon as Dante woke up, a hangover struck him at full force. Along came the horrible thirst. And his neck hurt like hell. Falling asleep on the goddamn purple couch was never a good idea.

He slowly sat up. The floor was covered with empty bottles tossed aside and paper wrappings left from fast food. It had been weeks since anybody tried to clean up the mess that still bore the name of 'Devil Never Cry'.

Weeks since the last mission. And now - no money, no work, no motivation whatsoever.

Clad in old worn-out jeans and a baggy blue shirt covered in oil stains and paint, Dante walked at a wavering gait to the back premises and then to the bathroom. He turned the tap on, took several slow greedy gulps of the cold water and, glaring at the mirror, he lazily started to scrape his cheeks with a razor. Man, he hated going unshaven. But well, shaving was as far as he got with taking care of himself. The tub was still left untouched; he did not even bother with a shower, the feel of hot water on his shoulders long forgotten. And never mind greasy uncut hair, the perpetual stink of alcohol and dark circles under his eyes. Nothing bothered Dante.

He did not care.

Dante sat on the edge of the tub and sighed. Time was said to be able to heal but he did not believe this crap. Every second of that damned day was imprinted in his memory, a stigma ever burning.

The image stood in front of his eyes as if it all happened just seconds ago.

Breathing heavily Vergil made several steps back and then – then he was falling. Falling to Hell. Dante shouted – almost shrieked – and rushed to catch his brother offering him a hand. In this simple gesture there was everything for Dante. He forgave Vergil for whatever sins the latter could have probably possibly committed, he forgave the pain and the hatred. He only wished his brother would not die.

The cold hollow glare of Vergil's eyes snapped Dante back to cruel reality and Yamato's blade cut through his hand. The sword tore his glove and the same moment something much sharper ripped through his heart, slicing it open. A great hole formed inside Dante's chest, one that he knew could never be filled. And with that Vergil was gone.

Dante's world shattered to dust.

There had never been a time like this. He had always known what was the right thing to do, had always known how to deal with his mistakes. This time he knew nothing. Vergil hated him, hated him for real, and Dante was lost. He never before considered all the brawls and quarrels he had with his brother to be true. Wasn't that a kind of a ritual among them, just a spiteful game for two?

That day Vergil showed him the truth: all Dante did was wrong. Insignificant misunderstandings and trivial squabbles – that was what Dante saw. But his brother had always been serious. When they met at the top of the tower, Vergil had already been lost for Dante, he did not want to listen anymore.

Sighing on the edge of the tub, Dante looked at his wrists. Numerous light scars covered his skin. It was on such days, while feeling stupid, unnecessary and useless, that Dante let himself drown in self-pity and slit his wrists. For several hours he would sit on the bathroom floor and watch crimson slowly spread over the tiles, wishing to cease to exist. Of course, he did not really want to die. The physical pain, however, helped him get over sorrow and anger. Dizzy from blood loss, Dante would imagine what Vergil would possibly say if he died. Maybe, just maybe, his brother would stop doing stupid things to get 'power'. Maybe Vergil would see that there is no other heir and no obstacle to get whatever it was he wanted. Would he be relieved?

However, later Dante would always stand up, bandage the wounds and let them heal. He could not let himself die; he had to make sure Vergil was fine. Until then, however, Dante could stay at his old place, with no money, no food, no nothing, and drag out the remainder of his miserable existence. No one would really care.

Dante stood up and went back to the couch. He had a bad feeling, and his intuition proved to be useful again. There was a knock at the door and without further warning, a female figure entered the former agency.

'Holy shit!' exclaimed Lady. She waved a hand in front of her nose as if it could exorcise the smell of alcohol and cigarettes. 'What a hellhole! How does he live in here…' She actually did not finish as she noticed Dante himself, sitting awkwardly on the couch as there was no other place free of litter in the room.

Lady was astonished. It was true people were saying that the agency closed up, but to see Dante like this… she was not prepared. He was all skin and bone, in dirty clothes, sordid and pitiful. But worst of all he looked lost and desperate.

'Hey there,' she called, lowering her sunglasses. 'How's it goin'?'

Dante did not answer. He just stared at her with dusk dull eyes as if not understanding her at all.

'Well… What happened?' Lady asked, troubled.

'Reminiscing,' slowly mouthed Dante. Why did he even bother answering?

'Now about what? Demons trying to occupy the human world? That morbid brother of yours?'

'Don't you dare talk in this way about my brother, bitch!' Dante snapped. He was now standing tall in front of her, fists clenched and rage evident in his eyes. 'Don't. You. Dare.'

Lady somehow managed to get out: 'Chill, Dante.' And he was gone back to amoeba state, falling clumsily back on the couch.

'If you don't want anything just leave'.

'Oh, right. Those signs started to appear around your place. Thought you might know what these letters mean.'

Lady walked up to Dante and gave him some photos.

He sat up abruptly. His intuition was never wrong and this time the signals earlier proved to be the beginning of some great trouble.

In the pictures Lady gave him the bloody lines on the walls read:

'brother, here

brother help me

deliver me brother

help

save

brother…'

'What is it?' Lady asked.

How was he supposed to answer such a question? 'It is my goddamn brother sending me love letters from Hell so that I go rescue him and then it all turns out to be a trap so that those stupid demons can jail me in the ninth circle?' There was no proof it was Vergil.

'Nothing serious really,' Dante said but he could not hide the trembling in his voice. 'Someone from down there is asking for help.'

'The blood?'

'Belongs to the one asking; that is to a demon. There should be no murders.'

'True, there are none. But why is a demon asking for help? This sounds ridiculous. Apart from that you look bloody freaked out. What have you not told me?'

'That is…' Dante mustered as much courage as he could being down and broken and all, and continued. 'It asks for help from some nameless 'brother''

'Oh. Maybe you should go have a look at the blood. Check if it matches yours.'

'Leave me alone,' snapped Dante back quite rudely. Lady knew better then comment further on the issue of blood relatives, so she put the copies of the photos on the floor near the couch and left.

Before closing the door she looked around Devil Never Cry once more. The devil arms were dusty and almost all covered with rust stains. There were spider webs in every corner. The room was a mess but an even greater mess was the man on the couch. Nothing mattered to him; only a mask of his devil-may-care attitude remained. The devil however, apparently did not care.

Lady did not want to know what exactly happened but she was absolutely sure of one thing: one stupid pride-obsessed devil had killed the strongest man ever. Killed Dante on the inside.

...

This stupid case of Lady's brought up too much.

Dante was trying to put on his old ruined red all-stars. He had not laced up any footwear for a very long time so it took him a while. Finally, avoiding the rubbish, he reached the door and went outside.

The moon was hiding behind the clouds and rain was pouring down, hissing as if in eternal pain. Not bothering to get some warmer clothes, Dante stepped into the rain and started walking. Water was cold and somehow soothing. It answered his need of physical suffering.

The demonic signs should be about a block away.

Dante was shivering from cold and all wet, when he finally got to the narrow side street where on the bricks was a dark brownish inscription. It was the one meaning 'deliver me brother'. Nervously Dante took a sip of whiskey he was clever enough to take with him. Then he slowly touched the dried up blood, that the rain would probably soon slowly wipe away.

And cursed. The line of blood under his fingers disappeared, absorbed by his skin and by the warmth in his heart Dante knew it belonged to Vergil.

His brother was alive, which was always good news. Considering how often they met. Dante slowly sat down on the pavement and smiled involuntary. After all, his brother survived. How was he? Was he at least a little bit human? Fighting Nelo Angelo again did not seem like an experience Dante could suffer through one more time. Did Vergil remember him?

What was he supposed to do? Dante got used to the thought that Vergil would never want to see him again. Got used to being hated. To being forgotten and forsaken. It took a while but he managed to deal with it. And now… Vergil asking for his fuckin' help? Even if it is not him… then some bastard had to be strong enough to get Vergil's blood. Then his brother would still need help. Shit.

Dante smashed the bottle at the wall and cut his hand on one of the splinters. Then he slowly wrote the letters of the language of his father, the letters he thought he would never ever remember:

'What do you need?' he finished the dark signs, blood mixed with streams of water running down the dirty wall. That should have been enough. Since the writing appeared in the human world already it meant that the enchantment had been done to make a connection. So his answer should have already showed up on some surface in the Demon world. Dante waited for a couple of minutes and was on the point of leaving for the agency when someone started to write back.

'Mato,' said the blurry letters through the rainwater that tried to wash them away.

'I don't fuckin' have it!' Dante hit the wall with his fist. 'You idiot you took it with you!'

'Now of all times! Whoever you are,' he threatened the inscriptions. 'You shall not have it. If you want the blade that much, come find it.'

Dante swung around, cold, wet and enraged, and rushed out of the narrow street.

...

Dante could not sleep. He tried to think of where Yamato could really be. About 6 am it struck him. He rushed up the stairs to the bedroom. Former bedroom, one could say, as now he practically lived on the couch, which was his bed, his work-space and his resting place.

The former bedroom space at the moment was used for good old things like photo albums, antique books, maps and ancient devil arms that were valuable but no longer of use. That thing must have been there as well.

Dante slammed the door wide open and crushed everything in his way; he crawled under his former bed. There, among other filthy boxes and rags, all covered in dust and dirt, was a long velvet case with a golden cord around it. Not believing his eyes, Dante cautiously took the case downstairs. In one big swing he wiped everything from his table: the litter, the magazines, the telephone even; and put the case right in the center, as if it were a treasure.

Well, it was a treasure of sorts. Slowly Dante undid the cord and opened the case. There lay Yamato. A perfect sword in a perfect sheath. Dark blue as a winter's night, hiding the blade colder than ice and faster than the wind.

The request made sense now. But how did Yamato get in there?

Dante remembered. That day was extremely hot, the day he got the case.

An old lady, all trembling from age, stopped with her cart near the agency and for the whole day was selling inoperative devil mechanisms as toys to children. He did not like it at first. But then seeing that the machines were truly broken and harmless it seemed fine. In the evening, when the old lady had most of her precious items sold out, Dante brought her some strawberry ice-cream. He did not mind sharing.

'Thank you m'boy', the lady lisped. 'Are you new here? Haven't seen your place before.' She asked, eyeing him cunningly.

'A couple o'years since I started working here. Does it bother you?'

'Would you really care what an old hag like me would say? Come on, boy. Better tell me, are you by any chance familiar with my toys? You seem like one of those who never give up the game of Humans and Devils.'

Dante was surprised she knew of the Demon world. That meant she understood what exactly she was selling. He had no choice but to guess for how long the old lady had traveled between the worlds.

'Yeah, I am still playing. A Devil at the Humans' side.'

'That's nice', she replied. 'And you seem to have the looks of a youngster I knew once. Sparda was his name, I believe.'

'You knew my father?'

'Father? Oh, m'boy, that clears up a lot. Here, let me give you something that should belong to you. But never open it unless… well, you know the procedure; unless the world falls apart and a great war breaks out… or something of sorts happens.' That said, the old lady rolled up the sleeves of her dark robe, revealing her wrists with numerous bracelets and talismans, and went searching in her knapsack. Having found nothing, she cursed – and that was the first time Dante heard someone curse so colourfully and in such a twisted manner – and finally she brought a case from the cart. She found it behind her shabby bags.

'Here, I'll give you a secret ace to hide up your sleeve. Have it.'

'What…' Dante tried to ask, but she insisted he left all the questions for the right time.

He liked the old hag from back then so he did never open the case. He put it under the bed as it was a valuable thing that had some connection with his father and there it stayed covered with dust until this morning.

But why Yamato? Did Vergil order the old merchant to bring it to him?

...

It was 10 in the morning. Dante way lying on the couch in a lazy-ass manner and in his hands was the blade. The sheath was lying in the case that was left on the table, and Dante was studying how the rays of light reflected on the fine steel. He still had not decided if he should inform the 'other side' that he did have the sword.

'Are ya there ya sonuvabitch?' yelled Trish kicking the door wide open. She spotted what had the appearance of the remnants of the man she called Dante. 'So I see Lady was right about you needing some hard training. Stand up!' She strode up to Dante and grabbed him by the wrist trying to get him on his feet.

'Woah, chill out, Trish. What on earth is the matter anyway? I am not going anywhere.'

'You bloody are. Today's the Dooms Day. Now get yourself together, we are going to the hospital.'

'Why the hell?' asked Dante angrily. There was no force in this world that could make him move anywhere, even if a new apocalypse was starting.

'Your brother is there.'

Well, maybe there was one.

It took Dante a moment to process the information and calculate that there was only one hospital where a demon could be and only one doctor who would take in a demon like Vergil. In a flash Dante grabbed Ebony and Ivory, fixed them in their holsters that he still wore under the shirt out of habit and then dashed out of the agency. He was definitely going for the motorcycle in front of Devil Never Cry, Trish noted, troubled. **Her** motorcycle.

'I am driving. If you want to go with me, hurry.' Starting the engine, Dante informed her, his face dead serious. Trish wisely chose not to complain and not to stay in the way of this walking killing machine which Dante was at the moment. As soon as she sat behind the devil hunter, the bike darted off with the speed she was not aware it possessed.

...

Driving through the streets, not paying any attention to traffic-lights, Dante was confused and scared. Why is Vergil here? Who did this to his brother and what exactly did they do? Is he alright? Is he… Dante just hoped Vergil lived though whatever he got himself into.

In the hospital Trish hardly kept up with the flying figure of the demon hunter, flawlessly rushing through the poorly lit up shabby halls. In an instant, she noticed, all the grace and elegance had come back to Dante, his skinny frame like the one of a demigod swooping down the corridors to catch a fallen angel. …maybe she should be a little less graphic in her descriptions. But the change in Dante was obvious.

He rushed downstairs, brushing by the old nurses who did not pay him any attention. Dante was the only figure full of life inside the cement walls painted by the damp patches, a strange appearance on the gloomy underground floor. Finally he made the last turn and it was the dead end. Near a small window – the only one on the whole floor, a person in the stained white doctor's smock stood.

'Schneider!' called Dante. Seeing him the doctor let go of his cigarette and stared.

'Get back to earth this very moment or I'll kill ya!' groaned Dante. 'How is he?!'

The doctor came to and tried to explain: 'I-I thought it was you, Dante, so I tried to patch him up…'

'How is he?!'

'Something like on the brink of dying.'

Dante fought the urge to throw everything away and find Vergil, be by his side and help. But he needed to stay sober and think clear. As clear as he could.

'Whadda hell happened?' Dante grasped the doctor by the collar and looking him right in the eye he hissed: 'Now you tell me properly.'

'When he was delivered about 80 percent of his skin was burned, he lacked an arm and one of his lungs was heavily damaged. Because of the dirt and ashes we had to remove several muscles. I thought it was you, so all the internal organs are still untouched, though there had been some requests from the black market.'

'Thanks for that,' said Dante, but it sounded more like a threat. 'So?'

'Now he is unconscious, no one would be able to stand this pain anyway. We did not have any identity confirmation and also there is no explanation as to why he is in this state. We can not get him artificial skin. And the chances of him regenerating his skin are practically zero.'

Dante let go of the doctor and frantically searched for a brilliant idea to save Vergil. He was definitely not letting his brother die.

'Where is he?'

'Here,' Schneider made a vague gesture towards an inconspicuous door at the very end of the dirty corridor.

'You know how to deal with a blood loss, right doc? Get prepared. In a couple of minutes I will be knocked out cold,' warned Dante and disappeared in the room.

Trish sighed. 'He was like a living corpse throughout the last two months. And then I go and mention his brother being in danger and he is all raving and kicking ass.'

'Is that his brother? Cause he seriously might die.'

'You underestimate those devils, Schneider. I have seen much worse things. But did you really have to tell him about Vergil's chances of getting better being about zero? You scared the shit out of Dante.'

'Regard that as revenge. This asshole scared the shit out of **me**. First, I thought it was him dying. Then I thought he'd kill me just 'cause he was upset.'

'Well, these are the perks of your job.'

'Yeah, and mind you, I don't get paid for it.'

'No wonder your service is shit. Hope at least you wash your hands and scalpels.'

'You better not bet on it,' Schneider bent down, picked up the butt of his cigarette and threw it into the ashtray on the window. 'I'll prepare the blood. Be right back.'

'Okay, because I am not going in there.' Trish looked at the closed door and sat on the battered bench in the corner. How the hell did Dante's life turn out this way? Everything was a mess.

...

As soon as Dante entered, he felt his legs almost give way. All around the room was tubing and a person way lying on a bed, his whole body covered with cloth. Shuddering, Dante approached the person and tore the cloth from his face. It really was Vergil's face, even if there was only half of it there.

'What did you do?' Dante asked almost hysterically.

Wasting no time, the demon hunter found a scalpel inside one of the drawers of the bedside table. He hastily stripped off his shirt and threw it away, then sat on the bed and lifted Vergil's head, holding him firmly, bringing his brother's lips close to his chest.

'I never did this. I just hope it works.'

Dante put the scalpel against the hollow of his throat and cut deep along the collar-bone up to his shoulder. Somewhere along the way he must have ripped through an artery, as the thick scarlet liquid began to flow down fast, covering Vergil's face. It was absorbed almost instantly by the hungry cells of his twin's demonic body.

'It does work,' Dante somehow calmed down. The blood was pouring down luxuriously in wide streams. The heartbeat indicator manifested, that Vergil's heart was beating faster with every second and eventually got up to the needed number of beats a minute. That is, for a devil.

Vergil would live. Freed from fear and panic, Dante felt sadness and guilt wash over him. He should have been there when it happened. He should have prevented Vergil from being hurt. Instead of basking in self-pity he should have stayed by his brother's side, fuck all Vergil's 'I hate you brother' stuff. He could have managed all that.

Vergil's locks were still snow-white; the skin was still aristocratically pale. The only eye Vergil now had was closed. It seemed like the demon had a hard day and trying to fall asleep, but could not stop thinking about something worrisome.

Dante tenderly took Vergil's hand. The new skin had just started to cover the tissues. Regardless he intertwined their fingers.

'Do not be troubled,' Dante ensured his brother. 'I will protect you like I should have done from the very beginning. Promise, I will take care of you. I swear on this blood carrying my life to you.'

Feeling tired, Dante leaned to the side against the back of the bed. 'Do you remember, brother,' he whispered, 'it was me who would doze off with my head in your lap. I guess you have already forgotten, huh? Sorry now I am so tired… Believe me, you will be okay. I will just close my eyes for a second… just for a second…'

...

When Dante woke up he was faced with a cold glare. Vergil was lying still in his lap. The room around was hell: corpses and blood all over the place. Bones stuck up from the torn flesh. It was dark and only some light came from the broken old lamp on the bedside table.

Dante felt hot tears run down his cheeks.

'Stop it, please… I know you can stop it…' he hugged Vergil and clung to him for dear life. 'Please, don't…' But it was already too late: his brother's body started to disintegrate to molecules and evaporate into crimson mist, leaving heavy red dew around. With every centimeter of Vergil's body disappearing Dante felt desperation grow, his heart ice cold and lead fear filling his lungs. He was muttering pleas. Dante recklessly begged, begged for Vergil not to leave him.

When just his head was left in Dante's hands, Vergil said idly: 'Foolishness, Dante. Foolishness. Can ruin everything.' And the last remnants of his brother shattered down in red and white rain of tissues and bone dust.

Dante sat quietly. He slowly embraced himself, looking straight but seeing nothing. Then suddenly bending down under the weight of the loss - he screamed.

Screamed out of emptiness.

Screamed out of vainless.

Just screamed.

Next, everything stopped. His heart broke, quiet literally, in his chest - the sphere of pain burst and eternal torment oozed from under his ribs. Dante fell and absently perceived that he was lying in the blood. It splashed and welcomed him. He drowned.

But the pain never left. Never.

**... endo chap01 ...**

**Next: **The mood lightens up considerably, Vergil switches on. Is he _polite_ and _good_? WTF?

Don't forget to tell me your opinion on my scribblings!

See ya in chap 02,

Ethan


	2. Sleeping Beauty wakes up

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**Babbling**

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**Betad by Tora-Katana **who is my Lord and Master ever! Now it looks presentable thnks to her =)

**B****etad over by Nimlinven **who is my greatest inspirer and teacher XD

I did try to get to humour here. Really! But the angst did not fade away

T_T sorry (not sorry really, I get off on it ^_^).

I just like torturing Dante. luvvv it! So I am not stopping until a sloppy fluffy happy end. So beware.

.......................................

**Chap 02**

**Sleeping Beauty wakes up**

Dante woke up with a start. He was lying in bed. The air smelled of a hospital.

"_Vergil,_" he looked around searching for his brother. Vergil lay on the other bed, next to him. His body has already regenerated the skin, and the wounds have already healed, at least on the outside. Vergil was resting.

Relieved, Dante leaned back and closed his eyes, sinking into the pillows. Why were pillows there? It must have been Trish, who brought them there. Schneider would have never done so, he was too lazy.

'Who is there?' whispered Vergil.

Afraid, Dante pretended he did not hear.

'I know you are there, please answer me.'

Vergil was being polite, and not in an aggressive manner. That was rare. Anyway, that would be really rude to leave a polite request from an injured person unanswered. Dante slowly got up. Seeing now that his clothes were still on him, he left the blanket and moved over to his brother's bed, sitting beside him

'Hey, how are you feeling?' Dante put his hand on Vergil's shoulder and squeezed a little.

'Where am I?'

'A hospital. In the human world. Your trip turned out to be a little rough, didn't it?'

'Yeah. Still, who are you? Your voice seems familiar,' Vergil opened his eyes and looked at Dante, who almost jumped off the bed that very instant. However, all Vergil saw was darkness.

'Have you lost your sight?' asked Dante anxiously.

'Yes and no. It is only temporary. Part of the price for the ticket here.'

Dante sighed, relieved. 'Why are you here anyway?'

'I am looking for a man. His name is Dante. He owns an agency that takes up any dirty demon-connected job.'

Distressed at this declaration, as a gesture of unconscious self-defense, Dante felt the urge to hug himself, but he just kept stroking Vergil's shoulder. Dante was suddenly feeling cold, his heart frozen in the ice cage of his chest. Did Vergil want to kill him? Did he just want Yamato back?

'Why do you need him?'

'Why should I trust you with my answer?'

'Because I am a human that happens to know this person you need?'

'Alright, I'll tell you. Honestly, I can not remember a lot of things because I was in between the worlds for too long. But I recall that this was the man to turn to if everything went really bad.'

Vergil thinking of him as a last hope? No freaking way!

'And he also should know where my brother is.'

Dante could not believe what he heard. Vergil was convinced that his brother and Dante from the agency were two different people. Well, to have memories that messed up you have to stay like for eternity between the worlds.

'And what is the name of that brother of yours?'

'Don't know. The more I try to think of it, the more my head hurts. I believe though that this person, Dante, will help me. It feels like he had always been there for me.'

Now, something was really wrong with Vergil. Thinking of Dante as reliable? As help? As being there for him, always?

It hurt Dante. He wished it was the Vergil he knew - telling him these words, openly. He wished he could be useful, at least once.

Maybe he finally had a chance.

'How long will it take for your eyes to heal?'

'I will have to order a remedy. The one that comes not from the human world. If I could only find that person…'

'Okay, shut up for now. I will see what I can do. Seems strange though, the Vergil I heard of being so talkative, letting a complete stranger know so much.'

'So you know me.'

'You have no fuckin' idea how much I know you. You are my bloody nightmare.'

'Is that so. Anyway, consider my inability to move and the loss my of sight. I have no memories whatsoever about anyone, apart from this Dante person, who could be of some help to me. I guess it would be my priority to try to befriend someone in order to get things going.'

'Well this sounds more like the full-of-crap smartass that you are.'

'Thanks for the compliment. And you sound like that shitty crackpot I have the misfortune to be the brother of. Is he by any coincidence an acquaintance of yours, that wag?'

How could Vergil not remember his own brother?

'Maybe… just… shut up already, stop babbling and rest. When your noble ass arrived to our hellhole of the world, you had almost all your skin burned off. And I must point out, you still lack an arm.'

'I do? I do not feel half of my body, so I can't tell.'

'Of course you don't feel anything! You have more painkillers in you than blood. Regeneration brings horrible pain, so consider yourself lucky.'

'Oh.'

'Yeah.'

Dante went silent. It was so nice to have this stupid chitchat with his brother. So nice and unbelievable. It made Dante angry. He did not want to pretend anymore, he did not want to hear insults. He did not want to fight with Vergil. Tired of all this save-the-world bullshit, Dante wanted to talk to Vergil about clothes, guitars, girls… For once, he longed for a couple of friendly words from his brother.

'Oi, Dante, you up already?' Trish opened the door, holding a couple of packs with blood for Vergil.

'So you **are** Dante?' Vergil stated, stunned at the revelation.

'Trish, you have the worst timing ever,' came Dante's sepulchral voice.

'Oh, and he is also awake. Here's the blood for the patient.'

'Throw that trash away,' Dante frowned, glaring daggers at Trish. She obediently flung the packs to the bedside table and leaned onto the wall.

'How did the heartwarming reunion go?'

'Your word choice is more than tactless, Trish. Listen, if you really want it so much, we'll talk about family problems later, mum. For now let me introduce Vergil to you, a demon who had his memories muddled up, who seeks the help of a man by the name of Dante – your humble servant here – and who can recollect nothing of his brother. Even the name'.

'Now that is a surprise. We will talk of family matters at home, my dear son, now that much is evident. And I feel honored to be able to meet you again, Vergil.'

'Did we meet before?' inquired the latter weekly.

'I am Trish. I helped you flee from Mundus after your small failure, remember?'

'I see. Nice to see… more like, nice to hear you again. I am temporarily blind.'

'That explains a lot,' Trish eyed Dante sitting near Vergil with his hand on his brother's shoulder.

'You helped him?'

'Talk at home, my dear son, I never knew if he escaped,' smiled Trish.

'Fine, fine. As of today I guess I will be helping this arrogant twit with whatever problems he got in the Demon world.'

'You sure?' Trish doubted if Dante was able to endure this confused Vergil.

'I have decided. Or would you rather I went back to my couch?'

'Nope, let it be like you say!' horrified by the purple couch threat, Trish quickly agreed.

'So… I'd like to take Vergil…' his brother's name was unfamiliar to his tongue. So strange: a name that was always on his mind was so difficult to say aloud. 'ho… I mean, to Devil Never Cry.'

"_I want to take you home, brother_."

'To that tornado-stricken dump of yours?'

'Not an expert on running a household, are you, Dante?'

'Guess not,' hearing his name spoken by Vergil's lips sent a shiver of desperation down Dante's spine. 'Could you… refrain from calling me that, please?'

'Alright, why?'

'Brings back unpleasant memories.'

'Tied by the past, just like me, huh? I have a number of matters left unsettled. Like the one with this jester of a brother of mine.'

'What with your brother?'

'When I finish my business with the Demon world, I have to find him and give him one good spanking.'

Trish had never before seen Dante showing so much and so little emotion at the same time as during this short conversation. Now again the shadow of well-hidden grief made Dante's face look too serious. Some inner reflex dulled his ability to feel pain, saving the demon hunter from breaking down.

'Why so?' he took his hands off Vergil and carefully placed them on his knees, keeping himself from any unnecessary words or actions.

Too composed, too distant, this person sitting near Vergil was not like Dante at all.

'Apart from being an insolent jerk, he…he was in my way to getting power I needed so much.'

'Why did you need it?'

Trish saw Dante's hands tremble. He could not stand this conversation anymore. His head down, Dante was shaking like a child scared to death.

'I needed it! I need it for…'

Vergil stilled suddenly, no traces of confidence left. He smiled bitterly. 'I do not remember.'

'Relax, you will, it's just a matter of time,' was Dante's cold reply.

Vergil was in panic though.

'No, you… you do not understand. Now that all my memories are mixed up, I do not distinguish between what happened yesterday and what was ten years ago… Now as I see all my past as one day… I did not really… The power never was my ultimate goal. Hell!.. Did I hate my own brother because of…

The lies and the flattery… Did I… What if… what if all this time I hated and hurt him with for no serious reason?.. Or did I forget the reason so important? I, I need to find him. Hey, I remember you were a man to rely on, will you help me out? Dante? You hear me?'

A trembling hand lay on Vergil's forehead gently, reassuring him.

Trish felt like she should leave immediately, but she was afraid of moving or making any noise.

Covering his face with his hand, Dante was biting his lips till they bled. In the silence that had sat in the room, the only sound was Dante's uneven breath. Hot and salty, tears were running down his cheeks, there was no stopping them now.

Dante cried, his whole body trembling, heart beating too fast, lungs constricting violently.

'Dante, you alright? Will you help me?' whispered Vergil his request quietly.

'I will,' Dante breathed out, stood up and hiding his face behind his long dirty white locks, stormed out of the room.

'Is he fine?' asked Vergil.

'He will be,' said Trish. 'Knowing him, he is much more of a devil than all of the Demon world. And devils don't cry.'

'Starting his agency, he stated the opposite.' Replied Vergil. 'He seemed to me much more of a human than all of the human world. And those are not human who have never cried.'

'Do not forget these words you have just said, Vergil. When he is back, tell him I am waiting outside.'

'I thought he would not want to see me yet. It seems I said something… rather upsetting. I did not mean it though.'

'This you tell him yourself. And yes, he will come back in like five minutes. Did he not say he will help you? He keeps his word.' With that, Trish left Vergil alone.

.......................................

'Fuck,' Dante again splashed cold water in his face. It was dark in the restroom, and dirty. Actually, now finally looking at himself in the mirror, he had to agree that he fit in the room perfectly. Having seen Vergil, in all his grace even on the hospital bed, Dante felt like a rug. For the first time in a long time, he admitted it. And he did not like it.

If he was going to stay by Vergil's side, he should at least have a decent appearance.

Vergil… It was all like a fuckin' joke. Of course, Dante would help his brother out. He would order the remedy for his eyes. But he wouldn't tell him a word about their past. If Vergil remembered – then fine. If not – Dante would tell him only when all the business was taken care of. If by that time he'd be able to make himself tell Vergil the truth.

The thing that really made Dante's heart ache was the sudden revelation of Vergil not really hating him. Lies and flattery, he said? Was it even possible to manipulate Vergil? Vergil wanting to meet his brother, wanting to sort things out. This new sides of his brother that Dante thought he would never see now opened a whole new world of possibilities.

'Doesn't matter now,' Dante told his reflection. 'I have to heal Verge first, then take him home, then help him. Everything else will turn out all right.'

"_But shit,_" he was thinking, hurrying back to the room. "_I should have been better at keeping cool._"

'I'm back,' Dante closed the door behind him but did not dare sit on the bed again.

'I would like to apologize,' Vergil stated.

'Never you mind,' Dante stopped him. 'I would like to take you with me to Devil Never Cry. It will be easier for me to treat you there and doc will surely appreciate you moving out.'

'Alight. Haven't I said that I have already chosen you as the one I trust?'

'I do not remember you ever trusting anyone. That means if I am not needed anymore I am pretty likely to be disposed of.'

'I can assure you, you are safe until I take care of the Demon world rebellion.'

'There was a rebellion down there?'

'Yes, it happened…'

'No, we'll talk later. I have to go back and prepare for you moving in. Then I'll fetch you.'

'Fine. And Trish is waiting for you outside. She brought something, it is on the table.'

'It's blood,' Dante gave the packs a sarcastic look. 'You are not having any of this water in your veins. I'll give you some fine medicine when we are at home. So forget this crap,' that said, the bloody packs faced the trash bin.

' 'be back soon.'

'I know,' chuckled Vergil.

.......................................

Dante sat behind Trish, she was driving him home.

'So now what?' she asked curiously.

'I'll do what he asks for.'

'Is that all?'

'For now – that is enough for me.'

"_That's right,"_ thought Dante, _"Vergil is by my side. This is a good start. This is enough."_

Enthusiastically opening the door to the agency, Dante stopped dead in his tracks.

'Helluva dump after a nuclear war!' he exclaimed, either shocked or perversely proud.

'This is about how Lady described it to me. Seems she was right. But I am glad you see it from this point of view, too. She nearly scared me to death, painting your current lifestyle in the brightest colors possible. Now it's time you make amends to me for the moral damage I suffered.'

'And how do you suppose I do that,' Dante turned back to look at her.

'Clean up this mess,' Trish smiled charmingly.

'I guess I have no choice anyway, since Vergil will be moving in,' stomping mercilessly on the carton packages and plastic cups, kicking empty whiskey bottles away, Dante rammed into Devil Never Cry.

.......................................

When Trish returned to the agency in three hours the premises shined with neatness. Well, at least neatness how Dante understood it.

The litter was gone as well as the spider webs and dust. Looking at the floor, Trish noticed, surprised, that it was actually parquet. Dante even got a nice bloody-red carpet from some hidden storeroom and it was now placed accurately in front of the desk. For once, on the working-desk there actually were papers. Not in the bin, not under the couch, but actually at the working place. For real.

The drum set and the jukebox stood lined in the corner, the guitars hanging on the wall above them. And the guitars really were collected from all rooms and put on one wall.

The chairs were not upside down and the billiard table was free of junk food and porno magazines. A set of cues was nearby, none of them broken. You could actually play billiard there.

In the middle of it was Dante on the floor, scrapping an old gum off it. He himself was a mix of stains and dirty clothes: around his neck hung a pair of trousers, three ruined shirts and a bunch of neckties. Trish knew he always lost ties and bought new ones. So finding them all found he had quite a collection.

'I am done!' Turning to Trish's silhouette in the door frame, Dante finally declared, shining like a newly polished fork.

'Almost,' Trish corrected and pointed at the mirror.

'This does not count. He won't see me anyway,' the fork dared to talk back.

Grabbing Dante by the shirt, Trish shoved him into the bathroom.

There was nothing a fork could do in the face of an asphalt compactor.

.......................................

A warm wet heaven. Dante moaned leisurely. White soaked locks plastered to the skin, thin water streams on his relaxed shoulders, roaming tenderly down his body. It was hard to breathe in this heat and his lips parted, Dante inhaling the moist air. He turned over, warmth washing over him, and placed his cheek against the cold tiles. He moaned again.

'Are you masturbating there or what?' Trish asked worriedly.

'I am **soaking,** you perverted bitch!' Dante shouted back and dissolved into the water.

Some moment later Dante entered the lobby of Devil Never Cry all clean and shiny and naked.

'Of course, I do not mind your birth suit.' Sitting on a chair, Trish put down the newspaper.

Dante jerked up and grabbed the first thing available – which was a pack of bills from the desk – and covered himself from the lecherous eyes, sweeping all the papers from the desk to the floor along with the telephone in the process.

'And here I thought there was a slight possibility of Devil Never Cry **not **being a mess.'

'Now, you, get outta my place!' Dante threw the 8 ball at Trish. She dodged, to his greatest disappointment.

While Dante was looking for his jeans in the heap of clothes on the couch, Trish studied his body. He did not look like an heir of the demon blood. More like…

'You look like a drug addict going on without a dose for months. Skin and bone.'

'You can relax. The drug arrived today, in the morning,' joked Dante. Or at least it seemed to be a joke.

'By the way, how are you going to take this drug of yours to this place? I am not letting you drive my motorcycle again.'

'Don't need that,' Dante found his black jeans and now was trying to put himself into them.

'Do you not need some, say, underwear?'

'Do not say such scary words in my presence,' he finally did fit in the jeans and went on searching for his red All Star skate shoes. 'And remind me, why are you here while I am dressing?'

'Hm.'

'Wait for me outside if you want. I'll go get a pumpkin for our katana-wielding Cinderella.'

And so she waited in front of the main entrance to Devil Never Cry, leaning onto her motorcycle. In about twenty minutes the pumpkin arrived in the form of an azure Jaguar, Dante driving in a fresh white shirt and a dark blue necktie askew.

'Hop in,' he said, putting on the sunglasses. 'Time to fetch Cindy-girlie.'

'One Cinderella fetching another. This is something new.'

'Hell, why am **I** a Cinderella?'

'Because you finally look like the fairy has worked on you.'

'I have nothing to do with fairies or any queer folk for that matter, you one-way-minded woman.'

Trish just laughed and left Dante's troubled mind to its own devices.

.......................................

He felt them getting closer and then they went into the room: Trish and Dante. She smelled of vanilla. He smelled of air after the rain and of storm. Vergil was still unable to move and no wonder they thought he was…

'Asleep,' Trish stated. 'You go wake him.'

The old bed creaked, and Dante's hand lightly touched his shoulder.

'He is not asleep, Trish, he is just **resting**. You wouldn't know, since you were not born a demon, you were created. A real demon wouldn't sleep unless he feels absolutely safe. This place definitely does not meet Vergil's definition of **safe**.'

Vergil could not help but chuckle. "_This Dante does know what he is dealing with. He could be a demon himself if he wasn't so apparently human. Wait, in the morning Trish did not mean he was one, did she?_"

'See, he is awake.' Dante must have taken the blanket off his chest. It was chilly. 'Time to wake up, sleeping beauty. I brought you new clothes.'

'How about a wake-up kiss then?'

'Dude, kissing your own…'

"…_brother is not right._" Dante almost slipped, but was lucky enough to notice the scary face Trish made. Instead, he said:

'What is it with you people these days? And Trish, go out, I'll dress Verge up.'

He heard the sound of the door opening and then closing. The voice that called him 'Verge' sounded painfully familiar. It had the sharp edge that reminded Vergil of old times when he had fencing training with his brother. This voice brought up the memories of sunny days, when they would lie in the grass, too exhausted to move. Then cautious fingers would try to take his hand, but he would get angry and say it was childish, he would always smile though. He knew that longing to feel loved and needed. It drove him crazy, too. However, he'd say:

'Cut it out.' The words came out aloud.

'Look, I have to change your clothes now. So do not complain,' Dante's reply snapped Vergil back to reality.

The devil hunter was indeed very carefully putting the clothes on Vergil's naked body.

'Do I look bad?'

Dante fastened the buckle on his brother's jeans and looked at him. Regenerated, his skin was smooth and pale; Vergil's body was still in a good shape, as if he had never stopped training; casual clothes fit him perfectly; messy hair on the pillow and the hollow stare of azure eyes. Vergil still looked way better than Dante on his best day.

'Like shit,' Dante spat out. 'Now sit, I'll put on your shirt. Hell, you still haven't regenerated your arm. The shirt will have wait.'

'I can not control it because I do not feel pain,' Vergil commented.

'Forget it, I'll help you. I have a remedy for you, but you have to promise never to ask me where I get it from.'

'Is it prohibited?'

'No, just top secret,' the devil hunter took a syringe out of his pocket.

'Then I do not care.'

'Good.'

Dante observed as the syringe was filling with dark thick blood, then took it out. The needle slipped out his vein. He tore all the bandages from Vergil's right shoulder and injected the blood right in the wound that already opened again.

'What is it?' asked Vergil, trying to move, but he could only lift his left shoulder a little and turn his head.

'Is it hurting you?' there was care in Dante's voice.

'No. This is strangely pleasant. Warm. And calming.'

'Are you kidding me? It does not hurt?' Dante looked, amused, at the bones that formed right in front of his eyes. On the blanket the new muscles stretched from Vergil's shoulder and then the tissues started pulsing with blood and skin finally covered his hand up to the neat nails.

Dante remembered he lost a finger. He got a pack of donor blood. It hurt like hell, he screamed his lungs out that evening. Was there really a way for regeneration to be pleasant?

Whatever. Vergil was lying here on the bed, smiling peacefully.

'I do not know what that remedy was, but it worked, I feel much better now.'

'It was the one that brought you back from the dead this morning. You already had about a liter or two of it.'

'No wonder I recovered so fast.'

'So, here, let me finally put the shirt on you. It is dark blue like you always want, so be happy.'

The door to the corridor opened and Trish started laughing, standing up from the bench. Dante was carrying Vergil, the older twin's hand was back in place. Dante was serious and concentrated. But it did not matter – he was alive and ready to kick ass. Just like he should have always been.

'This is gonna be fun,' Trish told herself and dialed Lady.

**.......................................**** endo chap02 ....................................... **

Happy fluff from now on? Not in **my** fic!

**Next: ****Vergil the Protagonist. Want to know what he thinks? This is your chance)**

Thanx for support everyone! And further feedback is chocolate-important for me!

*And I practically live on chocolate*

See ya,

Ethan


	3. Prince Charming kidnapped, p1: Drink me

.......................................

**Babling:**

.......................................

I love you guys who wrote reviews!

U are the only force that keeps me writing! A big fluffy **THANK U**! to u all.

The next chap killed me. Seriously.

**For your own sanity, it is recommended that you know the game and have seen the cutscenes. I tend to put a lot of understatements there.**

**Betad by Tora-Katana ****and Nimlinven (Who is a russian gal who rocks my texts) ***bows-bows-bows and worships*

On with the Vergil-angst!))

.......................................

**Chap 03**

**Prince Charming kidnapped**

**Part 1. / Drink me**

Dante carefully put Vergil on the back seat, placing him in the nest of pillows collected from all over Devil Never Cry.

'I smell leather and velvet,' Vergil looked around curiously, though, of course, the darkness was still engulfing him.

'That's my car. Wish you could see it,' Dante started the engine. There was the sound of the door opening and the vanilla smell told Vergil that Trish was coming along. They drove through the streets. 'I tell you, these two bitches practically owe me everything they have. And don't you dare say a word, Trish. You and Lady send me all the bills for all the damage you do during missions. Yes, not only my own ones, but tons, thousands of bills for property damage in places I have never ever been to! Let alone the catalogue rolls from women's clothes boutiques! These fuckin' women had me cleaned out, I tell you! But anyway I managed to save some money to buy this baby. I love this car. It is all stylish and the colour is magnificent! It is like the sky on a spring Sunday morning, pure azure.'

'Does it match the colour of my eyes?' Vergil asked quite an innocent question, but it killed his twin's good mood completely.

'Shit. It does,' Dante reluctantly admitted. "_Absolutely stupid of me. To colour it azure. Ridiculous. Just outrageous."_

Trish was grinning.

'Don't laugh at me, tis not funny!'

She burst out laughing. Trish was sure she was not leaving Devil Never Cry until those two idiots would settle their relationship.

'Here we are,' Dante stated, eyeing Trish angrily. 'Trish, get lost for now. Go find me that thing I told you about.'

'Could you please get me inside.'

'Sure,' Trish forgotten, Dante carefully took Vergil from the car. His brother's still weak hands slowly embraced him, searching for support. Vergil's head lay on Dante's shoulder.

'For now, I have prepared a place for you here, in the lobby.' Dante kicked the door open. 'I will take you upstairs to sleep. But during the day it will be easier for me to have you in sight.'

Dante's hands put Vergil on the couch. The piece of furniture was leather itself, but it was covered with a nice soft cloth. The smell of the rain came really close for some time: Dante was rearranging the pillows and throwing a plaid over his brother's weak frame. He was so close Vergil could hear him breathing. Then Dante tapped him on the shoulder:

'How about lunch? Any special orders?'

'Anything will do after that hospital.' Dante smiled involuntarily at those words – too familiar a thought. 'But I wouldn't mind some salad, julienne and…'

'Sorry,' Dante interrupted. 'But as of today, I can not supply your noble ass with a meal like that. I am freaking short of money. Actually, it is gonna strike my budget real hard, you staying here. For now, I'll make something more human,' Dante capitulated to the kitchen, nervously scratching his head. Vergil heard the devil hunter wash the salad and some vegetables.

'Can we talk, while you are busy with lunch?'

'Oh, alright,' Dante almost chopped off his fingers along with the tomatoes. Getting used to a polite Vergil would take some time.

'I would normally read a book in such a situation, but I can't see.' There was the sound of the frying pan clanking over the pots.

'Tis fine; forget about it. It's not like I had anyone to talk to for the last… well, ever.' The eggshells cracked one after another and the oil hissed on the hot surface. 'Trish is always here, but she is not really helpful. Lady is a kid, and we are not that close. So I'd really like to talk to you for a change.'

'So tell me, how do you humans live. How do **you** live.'

'I am not very typical,' snickered Dante. 'For the last couple o'month I have been consuming junk and tons of alcohol. Doing nothing. You see, it was after I lost a person very dear to me… Doesn't matter anymore. Anyway, you'll get to know my life since you are staying with me. I'd rather you tell me what those stupid demons did this time.'

'Oh, about that. When I entered the Demon world, I had my sword with me.'

''Mato.'

'Right. It actually was of great help as upon my arrival I faced the Devil Prince.'

A plate crashed onto the floor and Vergil heard Dante curse quietly then collect the splinters and, perhaps, the leftovers of some food.

"_I just smashed it. No lunch for you today, stupid Dante. Heck."_

'Mundus?'

'Never you mind. I lost then… but he is gone for good now.

Back to the point, the sword is also the key to the gates between the worlds. I made the decision to send it to a reliable person to prevent any accidents. In reality, this was the crucial mistake. With Yamato I could have stopped the rebellion that broke out after the death of Mundus.

They found and captured me. Locked me up in a dungeon, tortured… fools, for I am going to bask in the sweet revenge. But all this is not important at the moment.

Demons have not faced any strong power for long, that is since my father Sparda died. Oh, and as you understand, the Mundus accident itself does not count. They began to think they were invincible; and so demons want the Human world for themselves. Well, having seen their environment, I can understand their desire. In the human world, the air smells of ambrosia and water is like nectar for a demon like myself.

The point is they decided to use my body to open the gate.'

'They being?' Dante was looking at his hands, lips pressed tight, as down his strained fingers the bright juice was dripping into the sink, the orange he was holding squeezed almost dry.

'Oh, there is a group of demons that have some abilities. They are in charge but I have very vague idea of who that actually is.'

'So we deal with the pawns first,' Dante slowly let go of the orange and breathed out to calm down.

'Guess so.'

'Why am I not surprised,' he washed his hands and took the food.

'Here is your imitation of a lunch,' Vergil heard fast confident steps and the sound of a table being moved to his couch. Then the plates were put down and a glass with what seemed like juice judging from the smell.

'Um, Vergil.'

'Yes?'

'I forgot that you cannot move yet.' Dante said shyly, slowly sitting down on the floor. 'Want me to feed you?'

'With all due gratitude,' Vergil smiled a dark polite smile, 'don't even try saying it out loud again. When do I regain the ability to move?'

'Fine, fine. We'll have to wait for Trish to come. She went to get you a potion that will push your body to the limit, but in a day you will be able to walk already.'

'Sounds agreeable to me, but what does pushing to the limit include?'

'Remember the fairy-tale of the little mermaid? _It will constantly feel like she is walking on sharp swords,_ said the witch. You are gonna face pain, lotsa pain. Bear with it for one day - and you will recover 3 times faster. So what do you say?'

'Where is the potion?' smirked Vergil.

'Just as expected,' Dante laughed.

'You know, Dante, so far you seem like an awfully useful man. Tell me again, why would I want to get rid of you?'

'Because it is not your style to stick to anything that is a pain in the ass?'

'Are you?'

'Find out for yourself.'

'Missed me, boys?' Trish opened the door and hastily walked up to Dante. Vergil heard her whispering to the devil hunter. 'Are you sure about this? I have never seen any creature staying sane after it.'

'Chill, Trish. I drank it.'

'You freaking did?' she almost yelled. 'You could have gone mad! It is idiotic, you could have killed everybody!'

'Well, I didn't, so stop shouting at me and give me the fuckin' potion.'

'No way,' Trish sat on Vergil's couch and frowned. 'Until you tell me when you tried it.'

'None of your business, evercurious woman. Now gimme the potion. Or rather, I'll hold Vergil and you give it to him.'

Dante's hands helped to sit up, then one hand was holding Vergil's wrists behind his back, the other fisted his hair to hold his head still.

'Hey, doesn't seem like you are treating me nice.'

'Go,' Dante said, ignoring his brother's question. The glass vial at Vergil's lips - and the ice-cold liquid poured down his throat.

In a second it started burning like acid. Then it was in his veins, under his skin and the bones felt like they were crumbling down. Vergil arched back, his lips parted in silent scream.

'Trish, I await you here in an hour,' said Dante, pinning his brother to the couch.

Vergil broke down and screamed, trying vigorously to break loose from the firm grip.

Trish sighed and looked at the plate with eggs and salad and at the glass of juice – when was the last time Dante went into the kitchen to cook?

She went out shivering from the insane screams that reminded her of the forgotten realms of the Demon world.

.......................................

Trish was tired of sitting on the front steps of Devil Never Cry. Even more she was tired of harrowing pleas and begging, high-pitched cries going down to demonic roar to childish sobs and back to cries.

.......................................

Vergil did not distinguish anymore between reality and dreams, tears and laughter. In his world, wrapped in absolute darkness, there were only the bloody fireworks of pain.

'Vergil. Vergil!' she hailed him, and so he stopped and looked around.

'Mum, but Dante has already left, I want to go, too.'

'Look, dear, we need to talk. Like adults, alright?' She took his hand and sat with him on the grass.

'Oh,' embarrassed and somehow happy, Vergil waited to see what she would tell him.

'Vergil, you know I love both of you, right? You and Dante.' He nodded. 'But you are different. Since you are older, Vergil, I want to ask you to look after your brother.'

'Why so? Did he break something again?'

'No my little boy, he didn't. I am talking about times to come. Dante is too careless and he doesn't know many things, yet he shares with you the legacy of your father. It means when the time comes, you both will have great power. You will use it well, of that I am sure. But Dante… he might do something dangerous without even knowing.

So I want it to be you. Study well, listen to your father and when you grow up collect the splinters of Sparda's power. Get as many as you can find, in this world and in the underworld. Do not let anyone stop you, since you will be the vessel for the power of Sparda. The demons have used it all wrong – for the war against mankind. But I believe you will not go astray.

If Dante finds out and decides to do something reckless, stop him. And never – promise me Vergil – never let him have both amulets and never let him into the capital of the damned ones. Never…' Eva closed her eyes, holding back the ears. 'Protect him from himself.'

'Don't cry, Mum. I promise. I swear to you, I will not let him drown in the underworld!' Vergil hugged her, hiding his face in the crook of her neck.

'Thank you, Vergil. But I am sorry, so sorry…'

'That's alright, that's alright…' chanted Vergil, the cold wind beating in his face. The dark crimson sky slowly became black. Night came. The white snow, more like sharp glass, was tugging him back, but he pushed ahead stubbornly, still angry at his brother.

'Without power you can not protect anything,' he told himself, images of Eva dying still painfully clear in his mind. 'Might. Might controls everything. If I only had it – the power of Sparda… You wanted to protect us, you wanted us to live in peace. Didn't you know it is impossible because we are demons? We could have never lived in the Human world, as we are not like them. Why didn't you send us to the demons? We would have been prepared… But you stayed with these people you respected so much. What did they do for you? Nothing! The day the demons came for our family, the humans ran away, scared! Only the three of us were there: you, me, and Dante.

I never forgot what you asked me to do. I intended to protect him, as you told me. But it was you, who stepped in front of us, it was you who died. I could not do anything, I was useless! It shouldn't have been like that! Shouldn't have been… like that…' Vergil clenched his fists and looked at Yamato once again – the only thing he took with him.

He finally reached the top of the cliff and through the snowstorm rose the towers of Cocytus, the capital of the damned ones, the hidden heart of the Demon world. The ice city hidden in thorns, with rivers of blood crashing down from the sky bridges, down the stairs in the streets. The nests of demons and bats on tops of the towers, covering ice with black sticky net. The stone red-eyed chess pieces trampled under the hard claws of creatures in hard armor, with fire manes and hollow eyes. Thousands of bloody phoenixes, burning to ashes, caught in the blue street lights, then to revive with a cry of agony. Lecherous snakes with half-human bodies coiling up in the side streets, throwing lewd glances at the by-passing creatures.

'I am coming for it,' Vergil calmed himself down. 'My father was strong enough to be one of those who wielded power over this place. I shall not be inferior.'

A narrow lane was leading down between the ice-frozen rocks into the darkness and terror of the night, it took Vergil to Cocytus for the first time.

He foolishly went there unprepared. He was seeking the power of Sparda. Vergil lay in an alley, covered in blood and powerless. Someone stood over him, wrapped in a cloak to hide his human figure and his face. He took in the weakened demon, satisfied smirk on his lips.

The white day shone over Cocytus and its impenetrable rays broke through the small window near his bed. Vergil awakened, exhausted, his whole body screaming in pain. The blinding light hurt, too. The kind of pain that meant that you were still alive. Next, there was that human….

Someone entered the room. 'I may become of great help to you, descendant of the Demon Lord Sparda.'

'Interesting,' Vergil sat up. 'Keep talking.'

'My name is Arkham. I seek your permission to be the faithful servant of yours…'

"_One faithful servant… Filth!_" thought Vergil, after the fall from Temen-ni-Gru going again all the way up to the top.

"At least, he started the process. Now all is left is to unseal the sword.

But Dante… this stupid idiot, what does he want, messing everything up? Well, even supposing that it was Arkham who got him involved, why didn't he just disappear? How annoying, always sticking his nose in other's business…

Apart from that, it seems he became just worse since the last time I saw him. I don't have a father… what nonsense! This arrogant fool, not only didn't he want to use his demon powers, moreover, he claims he despises our father! And I cannot even teach him a lesson. How shameful.

I shall get the sword of Sparda. What will I do, if Dante, who is insane as it is, goes crazy? If he snaps, I will be helpless. Just like that time…

Then, it is a promise, to myself. I shall get that power. More and more of it, until my promise to her is fulfilled, I shall not stop and I shall not falter. All the splinters of the power of Sparda shall be mine. Nothing is going to stop me, even if it is my own brother in my way."

In between the worlds, just as Vergil had predicted, they battled each other. For the heritage of their father, to be the one who is worthy, who is deserving. Vergil finally had it – the legendary sword. Two more things left to fulfill his promise – get the second amulet and defeat Dante.

'Give that to me,' Vergil ordered coldly.

'No way. You've got your own,' was Dante's stubborn answer.

'Well I want yours too.' Like this idiot could really embrace the significance of that little thing in his hand. Why did he always have to be so fucking difficult, hard to deal with? Why wouldn't he just do as said?

'What are you gonna do with all that power, huh? No matter how hard you try, you're never gonna be like father.'

It was not Dante who was to judge him. But those words hurt, like a stab in the back, like a whip slicing through his heart. What did he know, that fucker?

'You are wasting time!' roared Vergil, talking was futile.

'We are the sons of Sparda.' Dante was trying again. Stupid. 'Within each of us flows his blood, but more importantly, his soul! And now my soul is saying it wants to stop you!'

'Unfortunately our souls are at odds, brother. I need more power.'

"_You don't know shit. It is not something you will understand. You, who was protected and looked after every single second. It is mine, this task! I shall collect the power of Sparda, this is the only connection to the family I have. You always had their attention, they loved you from the bottom of their hearts, but me – the __**appreciated**__. She even asked me to look after you! She asked me to lay my life for you! But this – this is only __**mine**__."_

'And we're supposed to be twins.'

'Twins… right,' mocked Vergil bitterly.

The fight didn't go as he wanted. Getting up, he was trying to catch his breath.

"_Still not good. How does it turn out like this every time I face this laughing-stock?_"

'Am I … being defeated?'

'What's wrong? Is that all you got? Come on, get up, you can do better than that.'

"_Like this scoundrel can really mean what he was saying. But we should hurry."_

'The portal to the Human World is closing, Dante, because the amulets have been separated.'

'Let's finish this Vergil. I have to stop you, even if it means killing you.'

"_Isn't it what I am supposed to do? Well let's find out, dolt."_ Vergil's hold on the sword was strong. By the sharp pain he knew, however, that this time he lost again.

"_I am truly defeated."_ Powerless. Useless. His amulet and the sword fell down. For the sword he did not care anymore. The steel had its power, so this defeat just meant that the user was not strong enough to come out the winner. But the amulet he quickly snatched from the water.

'No one can have this, Dante. It's mine. It belongs to a son of Sparda.'

"_Well, this is the end for me. The blockhead is still the brother of mine, so I might try to help him a little… as a thank you for another try at beating him."_

There was the need at least have some dignity in his defeat.

'Leave me and go. If you don't want to be trapped in the Demon world.' Vergil's voice was cold and somehow nonchalant. Then it came to him, the only way to becoming stronger. 'I'm staying. This place was our fathers home.'

Defeated and disappointed, his body too heavy, Vergil let himself fall. He heard a startled shout and there was Dante, wordlessly running to him, offering a hand.

"_This asshole is shattering my last pride. Not only after all this trouble I was defeated by a fool who until recently could not even use his demonic power, but by this shithead, who despises our father. You always took everything from me, no matter how I tried. Even when I was the best, everyone still chose you. So what else do you want? Do you want to take pleasure in my defeat? Never am I going to admit you, lowlife! Get away from me! You ruined my whole life! Oh, I never want to see you again!"_

The sharp blade of Yamato tore through Dante's glove. Vergil opened his eyes to take the last glance at his brother. Vergil's features told Dante what his brother didn't; what Vergil believed in, from the bottom of his heart.

"I hate you," read Dante.

Vergil did not see how his brother's face fell, but the pain shot through his chest. He did not know where it came from, but it drowned him in despair for a second and then it was all gone.

On the lake of blood, shut in the Demon world, Vergil stood up, panting heavily.

'It'll be fun to fight the Prince of Darkness. If my father did it, I should be able to do it, too.'

Defeated. Everything faded, nothing left – no family, no friends, only a shadow of a person with light blue eyes and snow-white hair, the person to be wiped off the face of the earth. Life was so simple when he served the Devil Prince.

Vergil battled that strange person with those icy eyes, but the stranger turned out to be the stronger one. Defeated again. And with defeat came bitterness and hesitation. Thousands of questions of why and who, none of which could be answered. Who was that with the features so much like his own?

In the capital – fleeing through familiar back streets, running without turning back, running from Mundus. Unknown feelings in his chest, forgotten visions confusing his mind.

Awakened memory told Vergil the right answer. He still could not beat Dante. The power of Sparda was still not his. He still was not good enough, still could not carry out her request. The whole purpose of all his troubles was as far as ever.

What happened to make him agree to serve Mundus? Right, he was defeated.

Then why did he go to the Underworld in the first place, if he was so weak?

**.......................................****endo chap 03.......................................**

So, hell, it exhausted me!

Drop me a line, DO tell me what u think!

**Next coming up: little red riding hood kidnaps prince charming! **4 real)

And we finally get to the NC content! (it will be at first rather graphic, lets see what survives the censoring)

See ya,

Ethan


	4. PC kidnapped,p2:Litte Red Riding Hood

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**Babbling**

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**Warning! **Well, beware – a bowjob and an intercourse! You have been warned!

All the thanx go to my wonderful **BETAS,** **Tora-Katana and Nimlinven, who beta my english and my logics and flow fer me**! I luv you dears, you are fan-fucking-tastic!)))))

Errrm…. Those who know QueerAsFolk will now know who's my favourite char)

_Italics – _words that were never said but everyone knew they were there

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**Chap 04**

**Prince Charming kidnapped**

**Part 2. / Little Red Riding Hood**

Then there was the Underworld. Mundus and pursuers. The death of the Devil Prince in the Human world, the rebellion. And – **it.**

Lies, ties, cries. Humiliated, isolated, violated.

Vergil chuckled. What nice sets of words. If only they were not about him. But in the dungeon everything was still pitch black, his attenuate hands were chained to the wall above his head, rough bracelets painfully cutting into his wrists. Vergil could still feel his own blood, sliding languidly along his elbows down to his shoulders; dripping from cuts on his chest, from the whip traces on his back. Thanks for the darkness though. There was only one thing that could probably break Vergil down now, and that was a mirror. Luckily, he could not see anything, only feel.

The semen has long ago cooled down and stuck unpleasantly to his skin all over his cold naked body. He spit out the mixture of blood and cum, but the disgusting taste did not leave him. Everything around smelled like sex. Never-ending rape.

How long had he been here? Vergil did not remember. He vaguely remembered that the reason he did not want to break down here was… What was it again, though?

Oh, that stubborn face, the spitting image of himself. What was his name again? Dorian? No, that's the bastard that fucked him thee times ago, who poured liquid steel on his back. What was the name of that stubborn, always happy person with snow-white hair? Oh, Dante.

Yeah, he should find Dante. Or, better, his brother. Yeah, first he should try to find the idiotic brother of his, because that Dante person is the last hope. He should not trouble the one who always supported him, not yet.

Find the idiot. And ask for help. This was not the freaking way he pictured his death, so forget about pride, beg for salvation, then revive, mend the pride and be the one who laughs last. Yeah, Verge, good plan, you should stick to it.

Every cell in Vergil's body ached. He tried pulling his ice-cold hand through the bracelet, all the torn tendons screaming 'Stop!' to him. But he did not falter, grazing off the skin, his body helplessly swaying on the chains, unable to reach the floor.

In what seemed like an hour, Vergil ripped one hand through the cuff. Immediately the whole weight of his body pulled his shoulder down and dislocated all of the bones in his arm. Lips parted in silent scream, Vergil shut his eyes tightly and stopped breathing, wishing the pain to go away.

It didn't. Getting used to it took another couple of hours, but then Vergil felt he could try to move. His trembling fingers started to draw the symbols with blood, and the letters, in hope that the person would see them. One groundless hope.

'brother, here

brother help me

deliver me brother

help

save

brother…'

And he waited, nervous and tired, on the verge of losing consciousness.

Later, much later, after thousands of black liquid minutes, the answer was slowly drawn on the wall. Vergil could have laughed in disbelief, but he was too weak to even smile.

The person on the other side asked 'What do you need?'

Vergil's hand did not move. _"Please, come on, I have to write!"_ he panicked. _"Not now! Move! Please, this is my own bloody body, don't shut off on me now!" _Finally, the hand trembled and rose. Fingers though did not move at all, frozen; the muscles were getting tired too fast and left his arm falling down helplessly. Vergil somehow managed:

'Mato,'

The answer from his brother never came. Even in three days, when his letters were found, when he was re-chained and re-raped.

The only thing that was still the same was the darkness. The sharp, ice-cold darkness. Vergil stopped feeling his hands and legs, but his wounds he could describe in detail: location, size, instrument; just by the feel of it.

So much for his noble goal – to prevent war against the human kind. Well, the original idea was brilliant in its simplicity. His brother, whom he was not supposed to let into the Underworld, would have stayed with the humans and helped them, while Vergil himself would have entered the Demon world to restrain demons from the other side.

He definitely was one pathetic failure.

Eventually, Vergil gave up all hope. The transportation sign was his last resort. One arm he managed to get out again, but the other broke down: it was stuck in the bracelet and got ripped away from the body at the shoulder. Vergil would have screamed if he still had his voice. Then there was too much pain and his body chose to cut it off: he stopped feeling anything.

Vergil hurriedly finished up the spell with the blood from the wound and threw himself onto the bloody floor – and into oblivion.

Dante… and _everything's gonna be fan-fucking-tastic, dude._

Vergil regained consciousness from the pain when he was stuck in between the worlds. The hell fire was burning him alive.

"_Oh, good,"_ he thought. _"Burn me. Let all the dirt be burned along with this disgusting skin. Burn to ashes the smell of my humiliation. No matter how I end up in the Human world, let me be purified by this. At least, I myself wanted to tear this violated body of mine apart… So save me the trouble, the fire of hell…"_

A hospital, Dante, Trish, Devil Never Cry, a potion to heal. And the abyss of darkness.

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Vergil stilled in Dante's hands and fell to the floor, fast took the broken body in his arms and lifted his brother's weakened form; he put Vergil on the couch, pulled away the snow-white locks plastered to his forehead and went upstairs.

Hell, he was tired after several hours of struggling with a crazed adult demon. Finally it was over: Vergil would wake up tomorrow, exhausted but able to move. It pained Dante that he had to resort to such means. He hated in advance the cold features of his brother, his 'I can see no problem' and 'Everything is going as it should, there is no need for your stupid enquiries' when it was obvious Vergil would need help. Why was it so hard for him to accept that he could also be weak sometimes? To accept help?

"_But then, I myself would never accept help from him, no matter how I want that,"_ Dante was preparing the bed for Vergil. _"As soon as Verge realizes I am no rival for him – our little game is over and he is over me. Oh well, I don't want to lose this parody for a family, even if it means his never-ending hate… So there is only one thing I can do: grow stronger to be able to follow in his footsteps and look after him for he is a demon, too."_

"_But as he is now…"_ Dante sighed and went to get his brother. Vergil was lying there, seemingly relaxed, but tears of blood were rolling down his cheeks – the tears that demons only shed in utmost desperation. Dante snapped.

'Fuck!' He kicked his desk out of the way; it smashed into the wall, pouring papers all over the floor. 'Why is it always like THIS? You will never tell me, right?' He shouted at his brother. 'You will never ever tell me anything! This is absolutely your way of doing things! You simply do not know that words_ please _or_ help_ exist! Why do you always have to take everything alone? Why you, fucker!..'

Dante roughly grabbed Vergil from the couch and practically dragged him into the bedroom, then tossed him onto the bed and threw the blanket over.

'Now you cry the Bloody Tears, and I know that this damned potion brings up the most important memories, but I have no fuckin' idea what you are thinking about! Aren't we supposed to be brothers?' Dante was enraged and he was railing desperately at Vergil. 'You never say what you want to say, you only say things that you consider appropriate!'

He grabbed something heavy from the shelf and almost threw that bronze chandelier at Vergil, but stopped and flung it angrily into the mess of books and boxes.

'You never show any human emotion, do you take pride in being a heartless beast, treating every other living person like scum? I could have helped you thousands of times, why do you choose to stay alone? Do you like making me unworthy and miserable? Do you get some twisted pleasure from dragging me through the mud over and over again?' Dante clutched his head. 'I refuse to believe you have no heart! Do you hear me, fucker, I don't believe you are really like that! So… why?' Dante fell to his knees and hid his face in the folds of the bed-sheet, close to Vergil's slender fingers. 'Why?…' He fisted the white cotton and whispered.

'You will never open up to me, right? I worry. About you. But…You are never going to accept me, right? You turn your back on me and I don't even have the slightest idea where I got it wrong. I guess I misunderstood you from the very beginning.

In the end, you never took the hand I offered you, first when we were just kids. I don't think you would have taken it if I offered now… or ever. Maybe you really simply hate me. Do you hate me, Vergil?'

But Vergil was asleep, his cheeks in crimson streaks, blood dripping on the pillow. His features were still like the ones of an antique marble statue, thin lips pressed tight together, eyes closed. There was no answer.

Dante sat on the floor, put his cheek against the bed-sheet and sighed. His eyes stung, but the tears were not there.

'Did you know, that one can love hate, because it is the most they can get and the only other choice is being buried into oblivion?

Verge, did you know that the sharpest pain rips through your heart when you can not help the ones you care for the most, because they do not want you. Did you know?

Do you know, Vergil?'

Dante sat on the floor of the bedroom, ashamed of shouting at his brother and angry with himself for losing control. He studied Vergil's face, every millimeter of it – the same as his, yet a completely different person. An enigma, never to be solved.

'I feel like shit, Verge. I am all messed up. So… you… heal here. I need something to get all these complications out of my head.' Dante quietly stated and got up eventually. 'You'll be okay here. This is my territory, and it means it's safe.' He wiped Vergil's cheeks, ruining the new white shirt with blood stains.

'Whatever,' he muttered, and left the bedroom. In the lobby of Devil Never Cry Dante picked a paper from the floor and scribbled a note for Trish. She found it on the door to the agency in two hours.

'Went to fuck it outa my brain. Take care of him or I'll kill ya. D'

'Doesn't seem like a lot of progress anymore, with all the deep-running issues,' she snorted. 'Okay, so he will be here tomorrow blind drunk. I can still brainwash the other one, at least this one has something to brainwash,' Trish disappeared into Devil Never Cry, throwing the paper out angrily.

.......................................

Dante slowly walked into Succubus, the bar at the end of the street. Who the hell picked up the name for it? Whatever, it did give the idea of finding a quick fast fuck, no strings attached. It was noisy inside, the girls in shorts dancing around on catwalks, the beat exhilarating, the guys at the bar all sitting with their backs to the barman and practically throwing money at the dancers. The crowd at the dance floor was either moving to the music or fucking or both.

'Hey, Sunshine,' a gloomy Dante flopped into the seat leaning on the counter.

'Come on, Dante, not you, too,' the young blonde barman threatened. 'I have enough trouble as it is with this nickname. The usual, strawberry sundae?'

'Okay Justin, forget what I said. Gimme some Jack Daniel's.'

'Wow, did something happen?' Justin was pouring the whiskey.

'Remember, when I get drunk I tend to brawl about my brother?'

'I thought you did not remember anything 'bout those nights. With so little blood in your alcohol, after all.'

'Unfortunately, I remember every single word. So… he showed up at my doorstep.'

'I see you're still alive – here's Jack –that's good news isn't it?'

'I don't know anymore,' Dante looked at the glass skeptically and drank it all in one gulp.

'You are killing the good booze, man. I suggest that you don't.'

'I definitely do not feel like savouring the taste tonight.'

The music went down and the audience started hooting and cheering. Even the gals were clapping their hands.

'You better have a look at this chick,' Justin chuckled, turning towards the stage. 'They call her the Redhead Witch. She is drop-dead gorgeous and doesn't do _'mortal men sex'._ If anyone could screw her – that would be you. Here she is…'

From behind the crimson curtain a tall figure appeared, slender hands sliding along hips, dark blue dress clinging to her body like the second skin, showing off the red lace of her bra, the ties of the thong visible under the fabric. She tucked a stray lock of her red silky hair behind her ear and her vicious full red lips smiled a nasty smile.

'Nevan?' Dante was glad he did not spit the whiskey back. 'What the fuck is she doing here?'

'You know this babe?' Justin was definitely undressing her with her eyes. Well, every male creature in the premises was doing that. The name of the bar did not seem that strange anymore.

'Nope. Only heard of her. Why is she here? '

'She's the new dancer, appeared in the bar about two months ago, stark naked and horny. During the first day she tried over ten men and never got to the actual intercourse, saying she would not be satisfied by just them. Since then she is an unreachable wet dream alive.'

'Sounds exactly like her. She killed anyone?'

'No! What are you talking about, she is just a stripper! Chill out, Dante!'

The demon on the stage was flirting with some rich brunet who was supplying her generously with money, when she heard the name.

'Oh,' she walked fast across the stage on her high heels, ass swaying and breasts in alluring motion, then jumped down, stood in front of Dante and grabbed him by the necktie, making him lean closer to her. 'Look what we have here…'

The music died out as the dj stuck out his head to see what was going to happen next. Dante narrowed his eyes and turned his

head to the side. He remembered all too well what kissing this bitch could be like.

'Long time no see, Nevan.'

'Still one handsome devil, aren't you, sugar,' the demon's hand lay on his shoulder and slid tenderly to his chest. 'How about we chitchat?'

'I wasn't planning to see you so soon.'

'I got stuck in this city after our last encounter. You did leave me there all alone, you naughty thing.'

'How could you, man?' taunted someone from the crowd. 'Yeah, if you don't need this chick, give her to us!'

'You are pretty popular, so leave me be,' Dante tried to turn to the bar, but Nevan held him firmly in place.

'Some family issues again? Let's find someplace private, and we can discuss one talented young demon that looks precisely like you.'

'You know something?' Dante eyed here questionably.

'I might help you with a little consolation,' smirked Nevan. 'I am sorry gentlemen but this evening is over,' she was interrupted by the disappointed noise, 'come one, give me a day off.' And she dragged Dante to the backstage, holding him by the tie. The devil hunter could but follow.

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The room was dark, lit up only by the candles in old-fashioned chandeliers. There was a dressing table with a huge mirror and a bed, predictably big and covered with embroidered velvet.

'Your taste doesn't seem to change, Queen of the Flooded Opera…' Dante didn't finish the sentence as he was pushed roughly against the door.

'Oh, it has been awhile since I had a decent meal. So would you shut up, honey, I am sure I can find quite a few better ways to use your mouth,' Nevan's hands roamed down Dante's chest to his stomach to tug at his shirt. Then she simply ripped the annoying fabric apart, hungrily kissing the newly revealed skin.

The sound of cloth being torn and the distant rolling of buttons on the floor shot through Dante like a shock. It really had been awhile and every electric touch of the demon's moist lips reflected throughout his body, teasing and arousing. Was she marking him with that red lipstick of hers?

When was the last time he had sex? Not human sex, but rough sex that was almost like fighting for survival? Was it…

But Nevan's hands were working the buckle on his jeans and Dante didn't want to think anymore.

'Kiss me,' he breathed out, powerless.

'I thought you were afraid of doing that, after the last time we met,' he surprised Nevan. True, she wanted this demon right now, but such outbursts threatened to make sex personal – that, she did not accept.

'I don't care,' it was too hot in the room, Dante's body like in agony because of an illness that had no cure. 'Kiss me, poison me, kill me… I don't want to think. I don't want to feel. Make my pain a pleasure for me, Nevan. I want to be free, so poison me and give me that freedom…'

'You **are** ill, Dante,' Nevan straightened up and looked at the demon before her: pearls of sweat rolling down his forehead, plastering the white locks to his hot skin; hungry lips parted, obviously seeking sin; the torn down shirt almost fell down, a snow-white frame for the rapidly raising chest and flat stomach with the first red traces of her work; opened jeans, a trail of white hair disappearing – her guideline. 'For all I care,' Nevan's voice was shaking.

She grabbed Dante by his hair, rough and demanding, and smashed their lips together fisting his white locks to guide him. Dante's fingers found their way to her ass quickly, squeezed and went up, tearing the blue fabric of the dress apart, his little revenge.

Nevan opened her mouth – and felt like she almost got fucked. Dante was insistent, powerful and wild. His lips bruised her, his tongue caressed hers, caressed every part of her mouth leaving Nevan with the feeling, that it was impossible to be more revealed. But Dante proved her wrong.

The kiss ended abruptly, the devil hunter pushed the demon back, and the shreds of the dress slid down Nevan's body, leaving her only in her underwear. Bewildered, she looked in his eyes.

Dante's eyes were red, his fangs sharp, his hand with the blue fabric trembling. Nevan knew this feeling, when she wanted to run and hide, the animal instinct for survival begging her to leave this place. But the other side of her was exited. Nevan stilled herself, putting her hand on her abdomen – there was this fire that she was afraid of – the fire she longed for. The fabric of the red thong she wore was soaked and a drop was sliding slowly along her inner thigh. By the smug smirk on Dante's face she knew he smelled it. And Nevan was not going to deny it – this pure power that now stood in front of her was driving her crazy. So crazy she could come just from looking at him.

"_This madman doesn't need my poison, more like he is going to poison me,"_ she smiled.

Nevan stayed still, trembling with agitation. Dante threw the dress away and moved past the demon, as if she was just a decoration in the room. The sharp scent of thunderstorm and rain washed over her, a regal trail wavering after him. The devil hunter sat leisurely on the bed, his hands put back for support and slowly opened his legs, despite the old jeans and the red All Stars – he was the blood and flesh of the Demon Lord, and every cell in Nevan's body was screaming that to her. His predator smile spoke for him:

_Get to work, bitch._

She quickly approached Dante, losing her high-heeled shoes in the process, and fell to her knees. This was not a friendly fuck anymore, Nevan thought, it was serve or die.

Her trembling fingers pushed the zipper down, stroking Dante's length through the jeans. Hell, was he exited. Nevan nervously licked her lips and carefully took Dante out of his confinement.

His head fell back, lips parted in relief. 'Hurry,' he hissed, his voice husky and low.

Nevan knew better than to disobey, so she stroked his chest with one hand, his thigh with the other and lapped at the dark head of his length, kissed it sensually and when she was gifted with a throaty moan, she took him in her mouth, whole.

The velvety steel on her tongue was hot and trembling with arousal. So Nevan closed her eyes and sucked hard and fast, almost forgetting how to breathe, alive only by the panting and low moaning that came from above her.

The demon was good. She could read what he wanted and – she could give it to Dante. He was kind of happy he met her; it spared him so much money for prostitutes and so many worries about how not to slip. Nevan… she was like a doll that would never break. She was a demon and had no heart, so why bother with her feelings? Just use her, fuck her senseless and break her.

The strong fingers riled up Nevan's hair and for a second she was afraid she was no good and he was going to punish her. She never before felt so powerless and feminine. It was always her, who commanded and used. But being on the receiving end only sent pleasant shivers down her spine so far.

Dante's hand got a strong hold on the red long locks and started a new fast rhythm, forcefully sliding his member down the demon's throat. She moaned, wishing desperately that she had this silky steel in her other cavities. Her long-nailed fingers slid along her heated up body and between her thighs, the power of the devil hunter too much for her, and she shamelessly threw the thong away. Her fingers quickly started to caress the wet folds and one nail scraped her clitoris non-too gently. Nevan gasped and then moaned.

'Are you pleasing yourself there?' a calm, quiet question.

_Do you know it is a disrespect to do so in my presence? You are supposed to pleasure me, dirty little bitch._

Dante pulled the demon back by her hair, his member sliding from her mouth, leaving a wet trail on her chin.

'I… just…' it was hard to find words in this heat, and in front of the Demon Lord. He was the one, right? 'I was wishing for you, my Lord… please, forgive me…'

Nevan was thrown on the bed, face down, and Dante's hands bent her knees, so that her burning empty core that was now longing for him was easy for him to please.

A light touch of his fingers and Nevan drew her long, beautiful legs further apart. His fingers slid inside her, stretching – an unneeded act anyone hardly ever bothered with, for she was a demon. But then – she was ready to give up all the powers she had just to be pleased by those calloused, confident fingers. She even forgot there was another dessert waiting for her. There was only one person that made her so powerless.

He came to her when the need for sex became unbearable. He was hot as fire, yet cold as ice because the sex was like it was supposed to be – an empty way to release. He was as strong as Dante, and in the end it was the only name she cried out unconsciously. With him, buried deep inside her, with his hot seed covering her insides, she would cry: 'Vergil!'

'Vergil,' panted Nevan. Dante's fingers slipped and roughly pushed inside the demon, forcing her to cry out in pain.

'Did he fuck you?'

_I am not using the leftovers, you slut._

'Y-yes!' Nevan cried, as a hand lay on her shoulder, sharp nails digging into flesh, drawing small beads of blood.

'Is that so?'

_You better tell me everything, scum._

'He…' the nails slowly went down along her spine, leaving thick lines of wounds. 'He came to me, because there was no other decent fuck around… and he screwed me… several times. I wished for him to come every day, but he is so proud…' Nevan was overloaded with pleasure and pain, she was so sure Dante was the Demon Lord himself that she broke: 'He is too proud to surrender to his carnal desires… so he came very rarely. But with him, with him it was real! He came for sex and got what he wanted. He was never tender; he hated what he was doing, and he hated me, and this fire was burning me alive! I wished for it – Ah!' Dante's fingers slid into Nevan's wet hole and massaged her inner walls.

'Keep talking,' an intrigued whisper.

'I wished for this fire to burn me, but then he was gone… ever since I longed for sex with a demon, like… like him…' the moment Nevan finished mouthing the last word she knew that **this **was already more than she ever had.

The hands kept her pinned to the bed and the head was pushed past her entrance. Nevan gasped – and as soon as her lips parted Dante bent over the demon, burying himself inside to the hilt in one steady confident motion. The devil hunter's hot mouth breathed into her ear:

'You are such a bitch, after all,' not giving her time to adjust, he pulled back until only the tip was inside and slammed all the way back into the demon writhing beneath him in desire for his cock.

It was pure bliss. Dante's power was drowning her, the fire Nevan so longed for was there, as well as the pleasure and the pain. The smell of her blood and the red stains on the messed up blanket were perfect, it sharpened her senses. The demon fucking her was hot and – she felt it – bloodthirsty. His desire was driving her crazy, his hate for her, lowly fuck toy, was consuming.

Then Dante withdrew quickly, lay down on the bed, and pulled her by her hair to sit in his lap. Nevan smiled her sultry smile and positioned his hard length at her entrance again.

'Look at me carefully, handsome Devil,' she spoke as she was pushing down, her heat engulfing Dante and cutting away every human bit of his soul. With the free hand she was folding her breast beneath the red fabric. 'Look at me carefully and remember what you can do to a woman.' Nevan threw the bra away and, freed, seated herself fully on Dante's engorged cock.

'Move,' he ordered, grasping her wrists and holding them with such strength it would leave bruises.

Nevan complied. She went up and down swiftly and steadily. The hardness inside her was too much, the hands holding her in place… showing her **her **place.

"_What is my place anyway? I do not fit to be used in war. I do not fit into the Demon World as there I am only used as a cumbag. I do not fit into the Human World, as there is nothing here to keep me satisfied. I end up killing – and then I am hunted. I guess it is my fate to be bitch. At least, I can be used by these powerful demons. Let's say, I will be a very expensive one,"_ Nevan smiled a bitter smile, but her usual consolation logic failed, leaving the void inside her. Dante and his overwhelming power helped her forget for several minutes, but: _"Well, this doesn't work anymore… hell…"_

Nevan closed her eyes, clutched the hands that were holding her and rode Dante with abandon. She moved faster and faster, the sound of flesh slapping against flesh in the air; sweat dripping down, mixing with her juices and leaving drops on the devil hunter's strained stomach.

The demon was squeezing him, pushing him further and further into oblivion, when Dante noticed the despair on Nevan's face. Her features were not distorted by pure pleasure anymore, it was a well-masked desire to be killed.

"_I snapped. I lost it. I pushed her and she liked it. It's not like her, not like Nevan. Why is she so desperate? Does she really want to die? Why, she of all demons._"

The cry the demon let out when Dante accidentally hurt her, thrusting in too fast, told him the truth. She did seek redemption in death.

Suddenly the blood was not boiling in Dante's veins anymore, the power that was pulsating through him was gone as well as the desire to dominate, to control, to humiliate. In a second he let go of the demon, sat up and tenderly embraced her naked shuddering body, then fell down on the pillows, her head on his shoulder.

'Stop this self-destruction this very second, Nevan,' Dante threatened quietly. 'The fire you were seeking is the wrong one. I will show you the real one.'

Nevan was looking in front of her, shaken. How did this fucker know? But the hands holding her close to his chest – though those were not the hands of the Demon Lord anymore – they felt strong and safe. She was carefully put on the pillows, and as Nevan glanced up, there was Dante – the man with the friendly smile; the man strong enough to conquer the whole world and protect it. His eyes were sky-blue, welcoming and kind. A human.

'Relax and feel,' he said and slowly moved inside her, his hand caressing her breast, massaging it lovingly; while the other travelled lower, a teasing light touch, until it reached the little hub of nerves and rolled it tenderly.

It was all strange. A strange change Nevan never witnessed before. So far everything was going the way she planned. The sex itself was the same as with that demon… what was his name, the name of the demon brother of Dante? Nevan forgot.

"_Who could have thought that I will be able to forget that name? But now, it seems, my world is only Dante. So, Dante, if you read me so well, show me the fire that I should look for. Give me my redemption."_

The devil hunter's fingers caressed the bundle of nerves, neglected before that, and she arched up, hands lost in the bed sheets, legs holding Dante by the waist. As Nevan's body shook and jerked in pleasure, Dante pushed inside her and lowered himself to suck on a dark rosy nipple.

Nevan moaned: 'More…' the slow pace maddening her and arousing the demon to no extent. Dante quickened the pace and tweaked the slick bud above the lips that were now holding him firmly. 'More, dammit!' Nevan shouted, and Dante laughed, a happy wide grin on his face.

It was a rare occasion when he was having sex neither to please himself nor to find release. This time sex was for her – and for her only, and Dante was sincerely happy he could help.

Strangely, it made him hard, the thought of Nevan enjoying every bit of sex with him.

The sound of his laughter rang in the demon's ears. It sounded… happy? Everything around was warm and a hot wet tongue was lapping at her nipple. Nevan could feel Dante's smile on her skin. Her own body did not seem so lewd anymore. She was being cared for, and it engulfed her completely.

The need rose, slowly but constantly, not a sharp spark of short pleasure, but a huge wave coming from afar. Unstoppable, unbelievable. Dante's thrusts became erratic, he was gasping for air with every move, his lips and tongue brushing her ear naughtily. He could smell the light sweet scent of her tousled hair, the luring intoxicating smell of her skin slowly enveloping him. The devil hunter was holding Nevan by her waist, his arms on her back, and it seemed to her he was thus embracing and protecting her.

'Ah – almost… the-ah-re… ' Nevan panted and shouted: 'Dante!' overwhelmed, digging her nails into Dante's muscled back, as she was shaken by her orgasm. The demon's body spasmed, her inner walls constricted and sent Dante over the edge, opening for him the highest peaks of heaven. The hot ribbons of seed covered Nevan's insides and the devil hunter let his body fall down, the red locks on his shoulder.

'Seek love, Nevan,' Dante whispered into the demon's ear. 'You are not suited for the Demon World because you can be much better. Your kingdom is not war. Your kingdom is lust and passion. So bask in sin however you like, but do not burn yourself in vain. Do not make it pointless, have a goal. Seek love, it is always a goal worth all the pain, and in the end you will find your true place.'

Nevan searched nervously for some cloth to cover herself. _"Leave it to this asshole to mess everything up."_

'Chill babe,' Dante laughed, 'you have nothing to be ashamed of, rather, would you come to my place to dance for me? I've got some multy-zeroed bills in my pants.'

'First, take yourself out of me, sugar, or I might tear your equipment off you,' Nevan snickered when Dante hurried to slip out of her. 'Second, your numerous zeros do not have any figures before them, which leaves them just a bunch of lousy zeros.'

'Oi, that hurt,' the devil hunter fake-pouted.

'Last, you are in my bed none the less, so take off your jeans and shoes, you crazed animal.'

'Okay, okay, Mum,' Dante sat up, sent the shoes flying into the corner and the jeans onto the floor.

'You getting kinky already? I thought we just finished. You up to act two?'

'Nope, and no role-playing, please,' Dante smiled and fell on the bed, tired. 'This should be enough for now. I do not do unnecessary sex.'

'And here I thought you two were different.'

'Are we the same in bed?' asked Dante. Saddened by the reminder of his brother, he frowned.

'Actually…'

'I shouldn't have come here to have fun with you. He is there and he is in pain, I should have stayed with him.'

'Why is he in pain?' intrigued, Nevan turned to Dante, her head reclined upon her hand.

'Did I say that out loud?'

'You definitely did.'

'Forget it, I need to go home,' the devil hunter jumped from the bed and despite his whole body craving some rest, tried to put himself back into the light blue jeans.

'No shower before you go?' Nevan rose from the bed as well and approached him wrapped in the white bedsheet.

'Not now; will have one when I am there,' dropped Dante across his shoulder as he was putting on the second shoe.

'A goodbye kiss then?' she demanded.

Dante straightened up and leaned in to those red lips, lipstick all smeared off. As soon as flesh connected with flesh Dante knew that was a bad idea. Electricity burned his lips, sweet smell made his head spin and before he could do anything the world went blank.

The body fell to her knees and Nevan sat on the bed. Small lightnings cracked in the air around her.

'It's a good thing I met you today, devil boy. Or, maybe I should start calling you the Devil Lord?

Honestly, I don't feel like giving you to them. But you said so yourself: war is not my cup of tea. And unfortunately, everybody needs to survive in their own way. For example, I sell myself.'

She put her slender legs across his back.

'But today was definitely a rare day when I totally got fucked. In more ways than one. Won't you be my own Devil Lord, sugar?'

**.......................................****endo chap 04.......................................**

Hell, I am the angst god. How did I end up making HER angsty?

O_O So, yeah, Dante got in trouble!

I know, you all V/D lovers like me are now screaming: Dante, dude, you screwed the wrong person! But, you know... he should always have someone to cheat on Verge with, right? Aint i the queen of angst ^__^

and btw... guess what? Dante is straight! Mwahahahaha As to vergil... wouldn't you want to know)

**Coming n****ext: ****Dante tortured, vergil awake and kicking ass for dante. All fluffy? Not in my story! Trish in blood, dante has a breakdown. Wait a sec, is he getting suicidal?? mwahaha look for updates**

Like it? Hate it? Don't be silent anyway, tell me!

See ya soon,

Ethan


	5. The rest is silence

...

**Babling:**

...

**To I'm Sexy**: thanx fer reviewing! *kiss* cant pm you so here:)))) i have a habbit of saying its purple after i saw one avatar on DMC. it's on the topic of master card. like: a juke box - 100$, a drum set - 60$, a purple couch - 80$, naked Dante as your daily pizza divery boy - priceless. for everything else there is master card XD since then it became purple and nothing else XDXD should make it my avatar here

you were so cool with he-is-injured guess there!

ps i just felt like ysing the bloody tears though it was my own idea about the painXD

well, i made nevan a stripper... cause i didn't want to waste her as a whore and she need money to live on, y'know?

and Danteas shouting at Vergilho was out because he could heva never told him face-to-face. thats like just venting out desperately.)

**Tora-Katana betad! Here is your 1x1 km cookie!**

**Nimlinven betad over! Here is your 2x2 km cheesecake with a cherry!**

Gurls, you totally rock! I owe you big time! *drools*

(I like this morning babbling so it stays): i just finished writing, its 7 am and i started at midnight...no, at ten... i type shit and abracadabra... i am exhausted and I AM FUCKIN WHINING AND CRYING! T_T join me at the end of the chap)))

Support me, guys, I tried real hard! Pretty please?

**WARNINGS**: there is a blowjob and its 'unwilling'; violence! (i guess); suicidal themes in majority. [**NO** DEATH WARNING!] But if your read up to here – then this mental sado-mazo is what we freaks enjoy! Yay!

There is a lot of colouring like **bold **and _italics_:

'speech' + **important so read) = 'important speech'**

_"thoughts"_

"Thoughts that are too long to italic"

So watch out for double quotes! On with it!

...

**Chap 05**

**The rest is silence.**

Vergil woke up, jaded, into the dance of black and white spots. Somebody's hands were slowly bandaging his arm, and there was an ointment on the cloth, a pleasant chilling substance that stuck to his broken body and relieved the tension.

'… not here yet. I hope you are up soon,' a feminine voice spoke, 'I don't feel like undressing the former Dark Knight all by myself and without permission. Seems like a life-endangering activity to me. But, if you still need time for your recollections of the past, I might need to do it while you rest. You see, Dante left this medicine to lessen the pain that you agreed for, so I need to cover your whole body in it. Right now you have some of Dante's blood in you, so the pain will return in full only in an hour. Maybe it would be better it you woke up now, when you could be coherent. By the way, I wonder where that jester is.

But we are better off not knowing. I remember he often said that sex was his panacea. Good Lord, I send you my thanks for he is not into all that debauchery in Devil Never Cry. Spare me the dread of seeing **that**.

Hey… are you awake?' She was smiling, he could hear it. 'It's time to get up, Vergil, dear.'

"_Mother!"_ He shuddered. There was no mistaking this loving voice, these caring fingers. She came to wake him…but hadn't she been… killed?

Then, in the Demon World, on the surface of the lake of blood there were only the circles that his steps left behind. The sky was dark and only ruins around him. Deceiving calm.

The black blots of demons tore the severe harmony, Vergil bared Yamato, and the smooth surface of the lake exploded in bloody fireworks.

Time passed. He was tired and wounded. No matter how skillful and strong he was the demons crept from behind the broken columns and walls, the innumerable horde.

'_Vergil,'_ the voice said.

He turned, almost stumbling down, strength flowing from him in wide black streams, and there she was. Long straight hair the colour of honey, light on her cheeks, happy smile on her lips.

"_Mother,"_ he almost breathed out, shaken to the core.

She turned her back on him. A feral grin distorted her tender lips for a second, then her features became stone-cold.

The blades and claws ripped through Vergil; he absently noticed that whole pieces were torn from his body, a rib cracked and was pulled out.

"_She was here, she is here! She was not killed that day, she still waited for me here, to come and help her. Please, let me touch her, one more time! Let me hold her hand!"_ Vergil held out his hand, but fell, his legs not able to support him anymore. _"Mother… please, look back at me! It's me, I am here! Please, look back! Mother!.."_

But she started to walk away and very soon disappeared into the white milky fog, leaving the pale bloody body under the black sky. In the ruins, he lay there in rugs, dying, icy blue eyes wide open, crystal tears rolling down his cheeks and his dry lips trembling as if still begging for her to look back.

Everything faded, nothing left – no family, no friends, only a shadow of a person with light blue eyes and snow-white hair, the person to be wiped off the face of the earth. Who was that with the features so much like his own?

He was the Dark Knight. He was the only one. And among numerous pawns of his Master, there was a tall woman clad in black. She was a doll created to lure one person into a trap. But she had the light hair that so reminded him of the sun that shone when he was a child, her eyes were kind and her lips always wore a gentle smile. So like those lips that called him in the morning.

"_It's time to get up, Vergil, dear."_

Morbidly strong fingers shut on Trish's throat in a tenacious grip, cutting off the oxygen. Her hands let go of the bandages and she desperately clutched at the emaciated wrists, trying to pry off the stifling hands. Vergil's eyes shot open, red glowing orbs of liquid hatred, as he strangled her with an inhuman dedication.

Everything around Vergil was not blurred anymore. In semi-darkness that was coloured grey and blue by the light from the window, he saw the thin shining strings – the shapes of the walls, the furniture, the books and the boxes. So clear yet so ephemeral, built of this web of light. And in front of him was this beautiful face, so familiar yet so ugly in its fake-ness. The body in his hands was much brighter than every other object in the room, the same brightness his own hand had; which meant only one thing. It was truly a demon in front of him.

'It was you, you abominable thing!' Vergil hissed and slipped from the bed, leaving the blanket on the floor and pushing Trish down. She opened and closed her mouth like a fish on the shore, tears of shock and panic in her eyes. 'It was because of you that I was forced to use my sword under Mundus. It was you who gave me the false hope, you confused me and manipulated me. You were the source of my only defeat! You lowly worm, you stole her sacred features! Now, I will put you back into your place!'

On the verge of losing consciousness Trish somehow got hold of a heavy cast iron object. She immediately grabbed it and swayed her hand. The medieval silvered candlestick struck Vergil right on the temple. He howled, low and angry, and let her go.

Trish fell to the floor in the heap of books and small boxes that she toppled down. She gasped, choked on air and, disoriented, tried to get up.

"_What does he mean? What the hell is going on? Is he not himself?"_ Trish lifted her eyes to look at Vergil and: _"Run. I need to __**run**__."_

Vergil rubbed the blood from his face and threw his head back, his short white locks opening his eyes, in which the liquid hatred froze into the glittering bloody rubies. Vergil's features froze as well, a mask of indifference and loathing. The air around him cracked with electricity and might.

Before Trish could stand up he intertwined his fingers with her hair swiftly, coiled her strands around his hand several times and lugged her out of the room. His stride even and resolute, Vergil passed the corridor dragging behind him a wriggling, coughing body.

Trish hardly understood what was going on, she was too scared and shocked. Her weakened hands tried to pull at Vergil's clothes, but Dante's shirt was open, it just ripped and slid from his shoulders. The bandages entangled with Trish's hands.

Vergil quickly ran down the stairs and into the lobby of Devil Never Cry. Trish trailed along, painfully bumping on every stair; broke several ribs, split her cheekbone, broke her leg, bruised half of her body. He finally threw her against the wall, she hit it with her back, coughing out blood and fell on the floor in a mess.

Vergil threw the shreds of the shirt away.

'A heartless dirt like you will never understand,' he spoke, his voice dangerously even and calm, 'what you made me feel like. For your sins, you will suffer.'

He gracefully snatched the set of ancient daggers that was on the wall and came up to the groaning demon on the floor. His fingers on her throat again, Vergil lifted Trish, holding her firmly against the wall. The temptation to just squeeze and let those cartilages break was almost too much.

With a couple of precise stabs she hung on the wall, daggers in her wrists and shoulders. Trish roared.

'You beast!' she spit blood at him.

'Oh. Is that so. But you wouldn't know what the difference between a human and a beast is, would you,' Vergil wiped his cheek gracefully with the back of his bandaged hand.

'Oh, believe me,' panting, Trish raised her head and glared at him. 'I know better than you ever will. **He** taught me.'

'Really?' intrigued, Vergil sat on the billiard table and crossed his legs. He observed attentively how his victim was bleeding. To death, perhaps. 'Who was that mysterious he?'

'Your brother,' Trish threw at him.

'That fool who is just a mistake of nature that robbed me of the power that was rightfully mine – is nothing!'

'Wrong, Vergil,' she was angry. Very, very angry. Trish could survive some beating; hell, she was used to it. But she was definitely not the one to allow Dante being badmouthed. Not even by his own brother. **Especially** not by him.

"_I guess, this is a chance for me to pay for his kindness and for saving me from Mundus."_

'It is your brother who saves everyone. It is him who comes to people's rescue when there is no hope.'

'He is just an idiot who does not know life.'

'He happens to be the idiot who is stronger than you anyway!'

'Silence, bitch!' Vergil jerked and started pacing in front of Trish.

'What? Maybe it's time for remorse to eat you from inside out?' Trish laughed, wincing at her wounds.

'What remorse?' Vergil snickered. He stopped and turned to Trish, his face like a mask, beautiful in its features and terrifying in its grave lifelessness. 'Nonsense! That brat took everything from me. He poisoned my life, my existence itself was cursed by every minute of him breathing.'

I was laughed at by him every single day; every day of growing up, of learning – it was his game.' Vergil's mask was breaking down, an icy fury rising fast. 'He played a fool, knowing that however I try, he will still be superior. What **I **needed years to master, **he** took for granted the moment he saw it. He **envied **me for being better. Poor liar! I did see his potential. Everyone saw it! And they feared him, worshiped him, **loved **him!

He stepped in my way every time I had a chance to become more powerful. He stepped in my way every time...'

'Stop being delirious!' Trish shouted, interrupting Vergil. 'Listen to yourself! Are you saying that this idiot who doesn't know better than junk food, wild sex and pizza; this drunkard who can't cook properly or look after himself; are you saying he is better than you are? You are fuckin' crazy about him!'

'Then why is it that every time,' Vergil's trembling hand took Trish's face, he leaned in, his cold features dangerously close and hissed: 'why is that every time I have a plan in mind, he is there to ruin it? Why is it, that it's him who gets all the devil arms and devices? Why is it, that only he is the one that the demons fear? Why is it, ironically, that he says he has no interest in claiming his heritage? Why is it, that it was him who claimed he had no father, who denied his family? Why is it, that it was him, who put up easily with our mother's death? Why is it, that **he **can still **smile, after all that happened?**

**He **is the **rot **in the family that mocks all that is sacred to me! **He **is the jester who laughed at **my **father and **my** mother, when they were near him. He is the jester that laughs at them now, when they are gone, **he** is the shame, the eternal disgrace, the stain that I will wash away with his blood!'

Trish was looking Vergil in the eye, her whole body shaking in rage, lips unable to find words, teary eyes full of disdain.

'You,' she whispered, out of breath, 'you are just a clever cunning spoilt brat who gets pissed when things don't turn up the way he wants. I would have kicked you and hit you until you lost consciousness, for days, because the rational words would not make it into your stubborn head. I would have burned you alive in the depth of Hell, you ungrateful selfish bastard!

You are so, so full of yourself.'

'What do you know, you artificial doll,' Vergil spat at Trish.

'I know much more than you will ever be able to figure out. You are deaf in your self-worshiping, blind in your crusade for power and the only words you know are the words of hate. But I will tell you what I know – for **his **sake!

Did you know that he tried to kill himself in desperate mourning over you, fucker? Have you ever come to the empty house to find him sitting in just jeans in a bathtub full of his own blood, his wrists slit and bleeding in long red ribbons, a cigarette in his purplish lips that carry an empty smile? Have you seen his hollow stare, when he sits for hours without moving, looking into the window but seeing nothing? Have you seen him lying in the middle of this bloody lobby, veins in dots from injections and a mask of calm on his face put there by drugs? Have you seen him drown himself in alcohol until he felt sick and lying after that under the toilet sink, crying, because "it was his fault, he killed his last family, could not save his brother"? Have you seen **that**?

And do you know the reason? The reason is **you**! You, self-centered fucker, who seeks power and who hates him for some illusory reasons that are not true! He twice thought he killed you. The first time, when you fell into the Underworld, he was broken. The second time, after facing you as the Dark Knight, I didn't think he would ever stand up from the bathroom floor. He wiped that floor with himself and dragged himself through the mud.

Even though it is stupid – this mourning and self-beating he did – **this **is still much more than **you** ever did or **ever** will be able to do for him!'

In a flash Vergil let go of Trish's face and swiped her with the back of his hand with all he got. There was a crack and her cheek hit the wall, then her hair fell down, shadowing her face and the blood dripping from the corners of her eyes. Her head fell down, helpless, her spine broken.

Vergil stood very still in the silence of the lobby. The bright body painted before him with the web of light dimmed, now dead.

'Is that… true?' he asked the void, his voice coarse, and it was silent again.

A spark of pain reminded Vergil that he was alive. He slowly turned around and went upstairs. The vial with the ointment and the bandages were lying on the floor in a mess. He sat on the bed.

Vergil's hands were confident when he started bandaging his own body again, but they were trembling anyway. He felt slapped in the face. It was one thing, if that demon decided to lie to him in order to break him. But… he believed what those damned lips told him, and it scared him like nothing ever had.

Scared him so, that he almost lost control of his body; scared him so, that cold sweat was slowly rolling down his temple; scared him so, that he felt bitterness and void inside. Scared him so, that he felt like he had never felt before.

He felt guilty. And in itself, it scared him the most.

...

Very soon the pain struck him at full force and Vergil was sitting on the bed, tired, looking at the open wardrobe. The things around him became extremely edgy and clear after the pain returned, they even got some vague colour. So now Vergil was trying desperately to see, whether that shirt in the corner was blue or grey. He should have stood up to check, but it hurt to move, so he stayed frozen.

That Dante person who should help him had not yet returned. Vergil sighed. That demon woman considered it strange, so he should probably go look for him. Vergil lazily took the shirt and put it on over his bandaged shoulders and back. The electric shocks shot through him with each move, but it was all nothing compared to what he had to take in the Underworld, so he languidly buttoned himself up savouring the feeling of constant pain. Oh, the shirt turned out to be navy blue.

The white tie was tugged from the mess that was Dante's wardrobe, and Vergil slipped the jacket on. Looking into the mirror was…confusing. Well, he looked perfect in this black suit, on that account he had nothing to say. But Vergil had bandaged his **whole** body, the sharp features of his face swathed in wide white bands, leaving only the fiery eyes, now crimson after seeing the blood.

'Mirror, mirror on the wall, who's the fairest of them all?' smirked Vergil and went downstairs to call Lady.

The old-fashioned telephone on that Dante's desk was a nice item. Instead of a plain black one that Dante smashed by accident there was the ruby and silver antique. Where did that man find money for things like that, if he did not have enough to buy food?

Luckily, there was a list of 'call in case of shit' phone numbers that had Lady's mobile in it. Vergil dialled and leaned into the chair where the devil hunter usually would sit. It was the man's working place, after all, and it even made Vergil feel more like him – more human.

'Hello there,' Lady said. 'Who's that?'

'I need your assistance,' he stated peremptorily.

'Dante?'

'No. Vergil.'

'Oh!' there was some noise, it seemed Lady lost hold of the cell and it fell down. 'What do you want? I am neither your friend nor your servant, so no guarantees that I'll help.'

'That person did not get to the agency. Not yet. Is it possible that he got in trouble?'

'Dante the idiot hasn't yet shown up at Devil Never Cry? It seems like the rumours were true in the end and he was kidnapped. Yeah, but I am not gonna help him. It's his own problems.'

'It might not be as you assume. Most probably he was kidnapped because of me.'

'In that case, rather, **instead** of you,' Lady laughed. Then, realizing her mistake, she added: 'You look very alike.'

'Do we now?'

'More than you will ever imagine. And what do you intend to do, I wonder?'

'Go get him,' Vergil answered plainly.

'What? Are you crazy? Can you even walk yet? Don't even think about it. Moreover, I wouldn't trust you with Dante anyway. I remember all too well what happened at the Temen-Ni-Gru tower, so you with your messed up mind are in no condition to interfere. Send Trish to help him.'

'You see, that is one of the problems. She seems to have wandered somewhere to take care of her own business and I believe she won't be back any time soon.'

'Oh bother,' frowned Lady. 'Wait for me, then, I'll see what I can do.'

'No, I won't.'

'What the hell?' Lady looked at the cell phone as if this piece of black metal could really transfer her dumbfounded face to the cause of her astonishment.

'Listen you, impudent girl; I bear with you only because you seem to have a relation to that Dante person. Honestly, I do not care for you at all. I wouldn't mind disposing of you, since you tend to try to order me about but right now I need to get Dante back – and this goes above all. So right now shut that blabbing mouth of yours and tell me two things: where do I find a sword and where do I find Dante?'

'You fiend! You truly are a heartless demon! But,' Lady smirked. 'I wouldn't mind letting you loose on whoever got Dante. Look for a sword in Dante's room; I am sure he has quite a collection of devil arms. And wait for me in front of the agency in three hours. I will find out what that joker got himself into and take you to where he is.'

'Don't be late,' Vergil hung up.

'Just who does he think he is?' Lady put her purple glasses on, the engine of the motorcycle roaring, and hurried to the city center. Enzo had some serious explaining to do.

Rummaging through Dante's room, Vergil looked under the bed. There was a dark case, and something was shining inside it so brightly, that he could see without opening it. Intrigued, he took it out fast and threw the case on the bed, tearing the cord off. Inside lay the moon-silver blade in the dark blue sheath, the white leather plaited around the handle.

'So it was him,' laughed Vergil, baring the blade with one smooth motion, his soul longing for the sword he missed so. 'The reliable person I sent you to, it **was** Dante after all.'

Vergil went to the lobby, throwing the jacket onto Dante's desk, not even noticing the bloody body on the wall. In the next three hours he wanted to remember the feel of Yamato. The thin steel sliced through the air, too fast, too sharp - just as it was supposed to be. Vergil smirked, satisfied.

...

'Wake up, Dante,' the voice taunted.

'Shuddup Verge, I wanna stay in for another five minutes,' Dante murmured, ignoring the voice.

'Come on, sugar,' Nevan laughed.

'What the..?' Dante sat up abruptly to find himself chained to the wall in a cell someplace underground. It was cold, and behind the bars, across from the devil hunter there was Nevan, sitting on a Victorian style silk-upholstered chair. Her hands played with his phone.

'What the heck?' Dante's head was all hazy. Nevan smiled, and he noticed to his amazement, that she wore jeans and a black sweater. 'First, you look totally out of place, Nevan, with that chair of yours. Second, why are you so **dressed**? I mean, why are you dressed **so**? Third, give my phone back and **let me the fuck outta here**! What is going on?'

'I sold you out, devil boy,' the demon replied, leaning onto the back of the chair, her slender fingers on the exquisitely carved arms of that old piece of furniture. 'To stay alive. You should thank me, by the way. I told them I had my personal score to settle with you, so you were not beaten to death yet. As to my appearances, I just did not feel like being exposed. You definitely made an impression there, Dante. And I can't let you out, I just do not want to die so quickly. You see, there are some powerful demons out there who need you, so who am I, a weak woman, to stand in their way.'

'Why the bloody fuck not?'

'Dante,' Nevan snickered, 'I am not as almighty as you. And I value my life enough to know what trouble is not to be troubled.'

'Okay.' The devil hunter looked around, trying to think what he was supposed to do now. His hands in shackles were chained to the wall, the lead ring practically fused into the wall with runes on the stones. The chain was rather short, about half a meter. The bars that separated Dante from Nevan were thick and close to one another. Well, maybe…

'You cannot devil trigger here,' Nevan told him as he tried to; Dante felt something blast inside of him and spat blood on the floor, coughing. 'The whole mansion is infused with demonic power that surpasses our abilities.'

'So it's a mansion,' Dante grinned.

'You gain nothing from knowing where you are as you won't be able to flee no matter what.'

'But if you could give me that thing in your hand, I might call for some ghost-busters, and I would even overlook your misbehavior.'

'Nah, tough luck Dante, I won't risk my life for such an impolite vulgar bitch like you.'

'Look who's talking. Just throw the cell phone where it belongs – into the cell.'

'Un-uh.'

'Fuck you.'

'What, right here right now?'

'Hell no,' the devil hunter laughed.

'But Dante, listen, they won't wait forever; when they come, prepare yourself.'

'Alright, alright I get the idea. But what am I to do for now?'

'Enjoy my company?'

'Okay, entertain me.'

'Nope, **you** humour me. Tell me, what were you saying about your brother?'

'So that you could give information to those bastards who trapped me, whoever they are? No freaking way.'

'No, I do what they want me to do, but not with my mouth.'

'Oh, I see. Still some very expensive bitch, aincha. Then, Vergil. How about you tell me how you got to know him first.'

'I told you already. He despises masturbating, considers it beneath his dignity, so he came to me when the tension became unbearable. That is all. He was always silent. Even as he came, he never said anything. So I had no idea what he was thinking. I could only tell from his movements whether he was angry or calm or annoyed… just the general impression, though. I am not of big help here, sugar. '

'I know what you're talking about, I also can tell from his movements what he feels like. What?' Nevan was looking at him with a strange unbelieving grimace on her face. 'I fight him a lot, you know!'

'Oh, you were talking about that.'

'What did you think of?'

'Sex?'

'Gimme a break, Nevan, he is my brother who hates me from the bottom of his heart, who considers my presence detestable and you speak about sex? Come on.'

'Hates? Did you do something?' The second her full red lips mouthed the question Nevan regretted asking. In an instant Dante's face fell, he looked like he suddenly was much older; he hid his eyes behind white locks and his trembling lips were cut up by an empty smile. The smile was wavering, as if ready to drop and reveal some bare nerves.

'I guess I did,' Dante spoke quietly. 'Why else? But, you know, sometimes I wonder if he hates me for ever being born.'

'Who are you? Where is Dante?' Nevan nervously waved a hand at him. 'Hello there, operator, connect me to that arrogant never caring for consequences crazy jester Dante!'

'Nevan, I am here. Cut the crap. Can't I sometimes not push myself? It's true I fuck the consequences, I like partying and loud music and I think I am kinda carefree. But you know, when you suddenly learn that the person who is your only family wants you to die, for **real**, it is quite a lot to deal with! Hell, I was into drugs and booze for a couple of months, and now when I try to understand things and maybe somehow try to fix this dysfunctional family of mine – you tell me to go all merry as a cricket? You know what? **I say, go die!**'

'Uh.'_ "This got rather awkward" _'Change topic?'

'Good idea.'

'So, do you have a girlfriend?'

'Do I look like a person who has time for that? I do with whores. At least, they appreciate it when I am being considerate and affectionate. And they do not care that I am a demon and that my life stinks of blood.'

'Well, I don't care, either.'

'That's logical, you are a whore. Your point?'

'That's plain rude!'

'So now you can throw mud at me and I can't? Aren't we having a girls-only-allowed talk? It's give and take.'

'Alright, my turn to vilify you.'

'Go for it.'

'Don't you get rusty with all that _I don't do unnecessary sex_?'

'Did not we just verify that before you poisoned me?'

'Was just wondering. But I honestly believe you need a girl. To put that messed up mind of yours to order.'

'Are you suggesting?' Dante looked up at her, surprised.

'What if I am?'

'The Hell?'

'No, for real. I need to get from these demons and you are strong enough to protect me. You do amazing sex and I don't care for your job, your blood or your money. And so far we were having a civil conversation.'

'Oh, I am flabbergasted… I think. ' Dante blinked; he just could not embrace the thought.

'So what is that Vergil Who Hates You doing at your place?'

'He doesn't know I am me. He is blind and thinks I'm Dante, a human. It is his brother whom he hates.'

'That is some news! Then how about I tell you the demons who captured you think you are Vergil who escaped from them?'

'Good.' Dante's eyes flickered red. 'If they had him – it's a good opportunity to make them pay.'

'You can't do anything in this cell, you are powerless.'

'I'll think of something.'

'Do it quick, devil boy, they are coming for you. I hope you do not forget to save me on your way out,' Nevan sighed, stood up and laid the cell phone on the chair. 'See you, Dante,' she disappeared into the dark corridor, her red hair shining in the light of a lonely lamp hanging from the ceiling of the cell.

'Nevan? What's with leaving me behind?'

Several minutes passed in silence. Then the phone suddenly rang and vibrated. It moved a little on the smooth golden silk of the chair toward the edge.

'Come on, fall!' Dante encouraged, snapping out of trance. He knew it was Lady.

The phone moved three more times and finally slipped, falling onto the stone floor. It fell on something like a pebble and hit a button.

'You idiot, why did you not answer?' Lady yelled from the speaker.

'Oh, I am a lucky fucker! Lady, find where my phone is and get me the hell out of this bloody place!'

'You kidnapped?'

'Yeah, it's some dem-..' Dante was cut mid-word when a patent-leather black shoe smashed the cell phone into pieces.

'Look what we have here,' mused the tall man in a short-sleeved shirt and a green vest matching his trousers. 'Isn't it our missing prisoner.'

'And who could you be?' Dante spat out. 'Be sure, I've got some tricks up my sleeve just for such scum like you.'

'Oh, you did change after coming to the Human world, the only heir to the Legacy of Sparda.'

"_The only? You've gotta be kidding me,"_ Dante was confused. _"Don't they know we are twins?"_

Two more men stepped from the shadows and opened the door to the cell. One of them was a blond with straightforward eyes, his hair in a pony-tail; he wore a t-shirt and jeans. The other was a bastard-like looking brunet in a beige suit. The one in the vest, who seemed to be in charge, had rather pleasant features, sharp narrow red eyes and thin dry lips.

'We'll have our little revenge on you. That redhead cunt seemed rather friendly with you, so don't try anything, or I might cut off her breast… or her nose… or even better, a hand.'

'Don't you dare!' Dante exploded.

'It's all up to you now, Vergil. It is your choice,' an annoying smile was playing on the demon's lips. 'Get the chair inside, I'd like to have a proper event here,' he ordered.

"_Just how do I get into these situations? As soon as I manage to convince myself that I am not some unworthy filth, life is always there to prove the opposite."_

The guys took the chair in, and the man in the vest leisurely sat down right in front of Dante who was kneeling and looking at them disgusted.

'Dorian, aren't you staying?' the sitting man asked the blond.

'I am done with this shit, I'll wait upstairs, Caleb.'

'It's not like he will be able to break out.'

'I am not staying.' The blond turned around and walked away firmly.

'Dorian?' Dante called. He got kicked in the face immediately, broke his lower lip, but got the attention of the guy. 'When a fair-haired bitch comes for me, say I am here and you will save your life.'

'Shut up,' the brunet barked and kicked Dante again; two ribs cracked.

'Stop it, Jose, this is not my objective.'

'I'll think about it, Dark Knight,' Dante heard a smile and gratitude in Dorian's voice, and the blond vanished into the darkness.

'Well then, get to work, you pathetic loathsome lowlife,' Caleb spread his legs a little, waiting, his gaze intense and confident.

"_Shit,"_ goosebumps of disgust towards himself ran down Dante's back. _"I am going to get raped. No magic tricks work and if I bite off this asshole's cock they will get to Nevan. How do I always fuck it all up? I truly am pathetic and lothsome, I am going to let these bloody demons fuck me, shit. Shit. Shit."_

Dante grit his teeth and fought the tears of despair. Life was a bitch, and again it tried to show him his place.

The devil hunter slowly sat between Caleb's legs and took hold of the zipper with his teeth, feeling the stare of the man burning stigmas of damnation on every millimeter of his body.

"_I don't wanna. Don't wanna… Maybe they will stick to just the blowjob? Please, let them make me do only this. Let them leave then. Just… Okay, Dante, do it quickly and be over it; not like you can do anything… Shit, I hate myself."_

The zipper down, the half-hard member lay on Dante's cheek.

"_Welcome to hell, shove your pride and get comfortable."_

The devil hunter almost sighed and, trying to make it easier and quicker, took the organ in his mouth. He had never given a blowjob. He did pleasure some women, but having a cock in his throat was a new experience and so far it was horrid.

"_Think positively," _like in a fever, Dante tried to calm himself down.

'Did you lose all your skill in my absence?' the devil hunter looked up at Caleb's smug face and barely contained the desire to bite down **hard. **Dante was sure his features were now distorted with hatred. But he did not mean any harm to Nevan, so he looked back down. The member in his mouth stirred.

"_He is enjoying toying with me… just you wait. Just you wait." _Dante pushed himself and sucked.

"_Oh, please, I need something to think about. Someone who could make it less… eeeehww. But whoever it is, I would never willingly put a man's dick into my mouth. So let's think who of the man I know is the closest to me, whom I would trust… shit. Vergil. They did __**this**__ to him! They __**raped**__ him! And I was thinking of how to save my own ass… he said they kept him for some time, tortured him. Shit, I am the selfish bastard. How is he there?"_

The demon's fingers grabbed Dante's hair roughly and pulled; the devil hunter choked on the length in his mouth, but no one cared, Caleb was fucking his mouth not bothering to let Dante breathe.

"_I don't care, Vergil survived things much worse,"_ and Dante's body was sucking automatically, like a rag doll, his gaze hollow.

"_Trish will come and get me out of here. Vergil… will he be able to walk already? Wait, he will. I hope he doesn't hurt too much. Would he go with Trish, I wonder… Vergil coming to save me, how childish. Just what am I thinking…"_

Dante could not hold his smile back. The cruel reality did not care for him, though. Hot semen covered the devil hunter's throat as Caleb came, almost tearing a handful of white hair. Dante jerked and coughed. The next he knew hot splurts hit his left cheek as Jose came, too, jerking himself off. The nasty substance caused Dante to wince and close his eyes tightly.

"_There, I am a bitch. If I could only… Fuck, Verge… Verge, how did you live through this humiliation and stayed so dignified? You know, Verge, you are right. I am an arrogant kid. I don't know shit. I can't judge you. But…"_

Dante was on the verge of crying, his eyes stung. He was miserable. But the tears did not roll down his cheeks. Somehow, he managed to stay composed. It was only come that slid down his chin, bitter salty taste in his mouth, white drops on his cheek and dripping from his lips.

"_I did not cry. Makes me feel somehow happy and proud. Maybe I am not so worthless yet. I will survive, I promise, Verge. But… just… come and save me? Please?"_

...

An azure Jaguar and a motorcycle stopped in front of an old manor in the suburbs. Lady loaded the guns and walked towards the mahogany door, one hand holding the straps of Kalina Ann.

'Wait,' Vergil called out for her, closing the door of the car and unsheathing Yamato. 'You deal with those blood-goyles and I go inside. They have something that belongs to me.'

'Fine then,' Lady turned to look at the garden that was red, though it was not autumn. 'Just bring him back.' She shot one bullet at the garden and a horde of blood-goyles rose from the dead dry trees, leaving it empty; the birds in a bloody hurricane in the sky.

'Some phoenixes for dinner,' Lady smirked.

'No, thank you,' Vergil disappeared into the mansion.

The lobby was shabby from age, portraits on the walls, a piano in the corner. On the stair-well sat a blond man, who was watching the intruder with interest. Seeing the man's face, Vergil clenched Yamato and moved forward with steady steps. From the walls slid several of the Fallen, white wings shining and covering those ugly cannibal masks. They soared around him for a moment and suddenly attacked, launching their lances at him.

Vergil did not slow down, his steps fast and sure. There was a swinging sound and a shower of snow-white feathers poured down behind him, slowly floating through the air into the bloody puddles that were spreading from the cut parts of the Fallen. Vergil held Yamato to the side, red strings flowing down the steel blade.

The blond man on the stairs startled, but did not move.

'He said there will be a fair-haired woman coming for him, not a bandaged demon.'

'Where is he?' the tip of Yamato touched the blonde's chin.

'Dungeons. It's strange, Vergil said if I told you where he was you would not kill me, but now I am not so sure at all.'

'Damn right you are not,' he hissed, grabbing the blonde's t-shirt and pulling him close to his face. 'Because there is no way I would forgive such a motherfucker like you. For I am Vergil. Recognize me, Dorian?'

'Shit,' Dorian looked into the crimson eyes and knew he was a dead meat. The predator before him was now playing a game that could possibly have only one victor.

'Is he there alone?'

'No. They are there…'

'Why are you not there, then?' sarcastically asked Vergil, throwing the mess of a man to the checked floor.

'I've had enough of this shit,' Dorian averted his face and awaited his death. Nothing happened for several seconds, so he tried to ask: 'Who is there, then?'

'A man who is very useful to me. And they better not damage him too much. Now, he said you would live?' Vergil was enraged, but also suspicious. What did Dante want with this bastard?

'Well…'

'Lead me there, and you better hurry.'

'Yes,' the blonde nodded.

...

Dante felt numb.

'I think I am done here for today,' said Caleb, tucking himself back into his trousers. He looked at his prisoner's impassive face and frowned. 'But you do what you are supposed to do, Jose. I will watch.'

Jose nodded and kicked Dante in the shoulder. The devil hunter fell, his face to the floor. There was the sound of a zipper.

"_Shit, I am so doomed."_

'Just what do you think you are doing here?' the stone-cold voice asked from the corridor. Dante started shaking feverishly. He knew this voice. But he did not look up, afraid that this illusion would vanish. It seemed like Caleb turned around, Dante heard him inquiring angrily:

'Whom did you bring here, Dorian, and why?'

'Nice to see you again, Caleb,' the voice of the new-comer was trembling with wrath.

Something grabbed Dante by his hair and the cold metal of the gunpoint was pressed to his head.

'One move, and Vergil is dead,' Jose threatened, almost strangling Dante with his other hand, holding him up.

'You mean me?'

Dante saw a person, in his black suit, his navy blue shirt and with the white tie. The whole body of the newcomer was bandaged, in his hand he had Yamato; there was no more hesitation.

Vergil laughed like a madman for several seconds.

'I died so many times already that I lost count.'

There was the swinging sound and the sound of the bells. Suddenly blood splashed over Dante and the body that stood behind him fell down in pieces. Next fell the bars, it was them ringing like bells.

Caleb stood up but the next instant Vergil cut his left hand off and pinned his body to the wall.

'You've got there a man that is useful for me. I do not like it when others touch what is mine. I do not like it when things that belong to **me** are **used** or **broken**. So I came to take it back and teach you not to set your eyes on what is **mine**.' Vergil stuck Yamato into the floor and in one elegant motion shoved his now free hand into Caleb's chest and pulled it back, tearing out pieces of ribs, lungs, and a heavily bleeding heart, pieces of arteries hanging down from between the fast locked fingers.

'Die.'

Caleb fell down, his eyes wide open in pure terror, dead.

'I…' whispered Dante.

"**So this is what it was, after all. He came to save me; just in time, just like I wanted him to. He came… to take the thing that he wants to use and that he is sure belongs to him.**"

Dante looked up at Vergil, a wide grin on his face.

'I…' his whole body shook violently, the accidentally cut chains clanking.

'I'm sorry, Verge,' Dante took the gun from the floor. A drop of blood fell from the corner of his eye. Then another one, and then they went rolling down his dirty cheeks, the Bloody Tears, covering his skin with wide red streaks. Dante put the gun to his temple. 'Sorry, Verge. The thing you wanted is broken. I am not usable anymore.'

And looking into Vergil's red eyes, he pulled the trigger.

There was a flash of crimson as the bullet went through the skull and out.

The gunshot echoed through the dungeons.

The blood splattered on the wall; dripped from the wound. Dante's body fell to the stone floor, the gun in his hand, the fingers holding it no more. The white hair lying loosely like a halo, blood and cum intermixed on his lips.

'No!' gasped someone behind Vergil.

'No!' screamed Lady and rushed to the cell, then stopped abruptly.

Dante's figure on the floor was dimming. Vergil stood, shaken, watching the light slowly dissolve from the man's body. That human, Dante. Vergil did not believe.

Suddenly something snapped and the rays of light shone through Dante's chest, first gleaming, then flaring, then turning into a glowing germ. It spread throughout Dante's body, setting his skin ablaze, shining brighter every second until Dante's form was incandesced white vessel of pure might. It made the air vibrate with waves of power, it pulsated through Vergil, making his blood boil and his heart skip a beat.

The man that lay on the floor was not breathing. He was covered in blood, his clothes were all dirty. His ribs were broken and because of that his flat chest was marred with dark bruises. The strong hands lay motionless, pale powerless fingers. Long legs were cold and lay in an uncomfortable position.

His face was frozen as if caught mid-emotion. Sad sky-blue eyes open, but seeing nothing. Thin lips slightly parted, in white cum and red blood stains.

'**Dante,'** Vergil's lips moved without him realizing it. His eyes were fixed on the demon on the floor. Vergil had never seen anyone more beautiful and more desired.

'**I.**

**Want.**

**HIM.'**

**...****endo chap 05...**

Um. There. He did it, he could not stand it anymore.

And i am bad-bad-bad i know. I am not gonna tell you whether i killed him. No! Suffer! Suffer!

just like i do when no one leaves comments at all! *angry bitching*

And no, no D\V here again... but!

*you deserved that, greedy readers!No candy for you*

** and yaoi did not fit in the chap size I have set 4 myself…**

but! the very next scene is gonna be Dante&Vergil cute action) yay! *If you bad lazy readers live to see that!*

**Next ****coming: ****tender Vergil! Nevan wants Dante, but Vergil wants him, too. And I am afraid Vergil's at least bi, so that might get the meaning we all want it to have!**

I will take bandages off Verge. And make him cook in Dante's kitchen in an apron! Bwahahah *evil me went on idea-hunting* You know, cooking turned out to be too plebian an activity for Vergil, I could not make him cook. He just exploited Lady.(

PS. Check my **profile** to follow the process and know when to wait for an update.

Feed back still greatly appreciated and welcomed!

~See ya in next chapter!

=_=zZzZ Ethan


	6. Snow White out cold

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**Babling:**

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Hello again!

Even though I am a total review-whore and I got practically **no **feedback, I have good news for you, readers. My life now is a wreck which means I write fiction, escaping to the virtual world.

I finished this chap at 6 am again. But this took me 2 nights in a row. Omg, I should be reborn as an owl.

So here is chap 06! It's kinda serious, but here is some yummy content. Next chap will have more humour cause of Dante. Promise!

**Warnings: **nakedness and nc-17 self-service.

**Betad by Tora-Katana!**

**Betad over by Nimlinven!**

**What would I do without you, me dear girls! I could post up until now mostly because of your contribution! Thaks fer helping me out! **Wuh, hope you'll like it and on with the chap!

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**Chap 06**

**Snow White out cold**

'He is not yours for the taking,' replied Nevan coldly, coming out of the shadows. 'Not yours, Vergil.' She stood in front of the Dark Knight and looked intently at him. 'You are just a power-crazed animal. You did not even look at him once, before the spell was broken. You care neither for his soul nor for his body. You only want his might. If you desire it so much, why don't you rip his heart out and eat it?' she spit bitterly at him.

'Right,' Vergil glanced at Dante. 'The heart…'

'**What?**' cried Nevan. 'You motherfucker!' she slapped Vergil on the face; red streak ran from his lower lip. She quickly lifted her arm for the next blow.

'Get lost,' irritated, Vergil caught her hand and threw Nevan to the corridor.

"_I need so save him…"_

The heart of the demon still clutched by his fingers, Vergil hurried to the man on the floor. He kneeled and with his free hand straightened Dante's body. His touch was light and, being honest with himself, Vergil admitted that he was afraid to move Dante: the devil hunter seemed fragile, as if a wrong movement could cause his body to shatter.

Shatter, like the crystals of hurt in his eyes shattered into the crimson tears, the bare desperation before the shot.

'Live,' Vergil whispered in Dante's ear. He held the devil hunter's head with his free hand, fingers entangled in the stubborn long locks. Vergil squeezed the demon's heart, and the ruby juice flowed onto Dante's slightly opened dry lips, onto his tongue and down his throat.

The devil hunter breathed in sharply and moaned.

Vergil let out the sigh he did not know he was holding.

'Now, sleep,' the hot breath washed over Dante's ear, and the devil hunter fell into a dreamless slumber, enveloped into the warm and comfortable darkness.

'Will he live?' asked Lady.

'He will,' Nevan said, standing up. 'You are messing with my head again, demon,' she glared at Vergil. 'You take care of Dante for now, but remember, he is **my** man. I'll come and get him.'

Nevan's body sparked with violet electricity and sank into the darkness, the bats flying off into the corridors of the dungeons.

'We should hurry,' Vergil told Dante, taking the devil hunter's half-naked broken form in his arms. 'You are allowed to follow,' he threw over his shoulder to Lady and the blonde demon. 'Dorian, you drive.'

Outside the blood-goyles were practically nesting on the Jaguar. However, as soon as Vergil stood in the doorframe with Dante's body in his hands, they fled, a bloody flock, scared.

'They feel it, too, don't they,' smirked Vergil and sat on the back seat, the devil hunter in his lap, the white-haired head on his shoulder, the wounds bandaged with the cloth Vergil took off his left hand. The older Sparda was wincing slightly. The ointment was gone and the air was burning the skin, but he stubbornly held Dante's hand in his own.

'Go to Devil Never Cry,' ordered Vergil emotionlessly; Dorian started the engine. 'Lady, do you have any arrangements for the evening?'

'Not as important as patching up a fool to whom I am indebted with my life,' she got on the motorcycle and put the glasses on. The drive back to the agency, unlike their way to the mansion, wouldn't be long. Lady was driving right next to where Vergil sat at the back seat so that she could talk to him. She could touch the azure door of the car with her hand if she wanted.

Lady eyed the brothers, discontented. 'This is getting so ugly.'

'Care to explain?' Vergil turned to look at her. He let go of Yamato and was holding Dante's shoulder, the white strands of the crazy demon tickling his cheek. 'I wouldn't mind any information on this demon I found so unexpectedly. So far I have not faced such a great force as him.'

'Forget it, you can't have him.'

'Why not? Why does every damn woman around here needs to tell me that this man can not belong to me? And anyway, why do you all think so?' Vergil would have gotten irritated, but Dante's body was still in close contact with his and the power was crawling under his skin. The older Sparda was absolutely sure the devil hunter would be **his**.

'Because you are family.'

'What? Just… what?'

'He…' Lady looked at the twins, then back at the road. 'He is a relative of yours who has a very vague connection to the Legendary Dark Knight Sparda. The power Dante has is inferior to that possessed by you, as Sparda's direct descendant. And you actually don't need him; you only need to find out a way to release what is hidden in **you**. So… stop hurting him already.'

'I wasn't…'

'He has known you for a long time, and you are not the last person to Dante. You turn up in this messed up state when you don't even remember who Dante is, and he goes helping you, not even knowing what exactly is on your mind. Cut him some slack! At least, try to see him as something more than flesh-wrapped piece of power.'

'Still I don't see any reason why I can't have him.'

'Anyway, what exactly do you mean _have_ him? He already is helping you. Don't tell me… he's straight just so you know.'

'Who the Hell cares?'

Dorian braked and opened the door of the car for Vergil.

'What?' Lady stopped her motorcycle behind the Jaguar. 'Just… what? You are family!' she insisted, hurrying into Devil Never Cry after the demons.

'Why, is it taboo in the Human world or something?' laughed Vergil on his way upstairs.

'It fuckin'is!'

'Oh really?' he put Dante on the bed and quickly went to prepare a hot bath that was definitely needed to clean the devil hunters abused body.

'What the heck is here with the wall?' Lady noticed the bloody stains where Trish was hung that morning.

'Some morning demon-slaying. Could you clean that up?'

'No way.'

'Will do,' said Dorian and went to find the floor-cloth and a bucket.

Lady carefully sneaked upstairs after Vergil and opened the door to the bedroom. It was a mess of books and boxes; Dante on the bed, unusually motionless. Through the chink between the bathroom door and the wall she could see Vergil trying the water temperature, the white steam slowly rising from the bathtub. The demon's clothes were stained and ruined, did he even notice that?

'Are you gonna bathe him?'

'Every single stain of that nightmare that he went through is to be washed off him,' Vergil slowly mouthed, in an ice rage. 'If you have something to say that can be of interest to me, you are allowed to stay. If not – either go cook something or get lost.'

'Hmpf. I'll stay. Just to make sure-…'

'I don't attack people when they are unconscious. Isn't it better to feel a little struggling? Now,' On his way to the bed, Vergil threw away the dirtied jacket and the tie and rolled up the sleeves of his blue shirt. He took the bandages off Dante's head and scrutinized his temples: the wounds were gone. 'Good, that bastard's heart healed him. But this Dante…'

'Stop it, okay? Stop _this_ Dante, _that_ Dante, _that_ Dante _person_…Stop it already, he is your family, no less! He's just Dante.'

'Fine. Dante… it's bath time.' Vergil pulled Dante's ruined All Stars off, took the devil hunter's body in his arms and walked into the bathroom to lay him into the hot water.

'Aren't you suppose to undress first?' taunted Lady, plopping into a leather armchair.

'Not in front of children,' Vergil aristocratically slammed the door and locked it. 'Besides, he is cold.'

'Did you just insinuate that I am a child?'

'Oh, now that I see that you know such words as _insinuate_, I am not sure anymore,' came from behind the bathroom door.

'You should listen to a drunken Dante more often, it's very educating.'

'Hm,' Vergil was too busy settling the devil hunter in the bath tub to pay attention to the conversation.

Dante's head was turned to the side, eyes closed, lips still slightly parted, a sensual expression of fragile calm. The neck and the shoulders, the bruised chest and the flat stomach – all seemed familiar under Vergil's curious fingers.

"_I wonder if you feel the pain now. You shouldn't,"_ he traced the dark marks on Dante's ribs and started to wash off the blood and dirt, red streaks dissolving, colouring the hot water rose.

Cautious fingers poured hot liquid onto the cold cheeks and thin lips in dried blood and cum, wiping them clean.

"_So many small cuts, so many blood drops, so many broken things in one body. Reminds of the Undeworld."_

A lean form of a demon in the crimson water of the bathtub. So much like down there.

'Hey, Vergil, so you **can** see, right?' Lady questioned, reconciling.

'Kind of,' he threw Dante's socks into the sink and started to undo his jeans.

'Then don't you want to know why he looks exactly like you?'

'He does?' Vergil glanced at Dante's face. 'Yes, he looks very familiar. It's hard to say though, I don't see him the way you do. To me, he looks like white liquid steel, slowly cooling down. But I can see the resemblance.'

'The reason is,' _"I should help Dante a little, right? How did he think he could keep Vergil in the dark? I should probably make use of the things Nevan told me at the mansion." _'The reason he looks like you is he pretended to be you. You look rather alike as it is, so he dressed up and did everything to look like you – to take your place. To let you rest in Devil Never Cry. He went out and got kidnapped by those who hunt you, Vergil. You owe him big one. And he did not even say he wasn't you when they were… erm… when he…'

'Shut your mouth already, I get the idea.' Vergil was sitting on the floor near the bath tub, his elbows on the edge of the tub, one hand on Dante's forehead. 'There is no need for all of you to go around telling me I owe Dante. I saved him today, did I not?'

'You think that's enough? He… hell, he sucked a man's cock in your stead! Dante is a proud bad-ass, he's gonna suffer the humiliation of this day for the rest of his days. At least Nevan understands how much it must have cost him. She will look out for demons while Dante in is no condition to do that, and after he recovers she will be working for him until the whole demon problem is solved in this city.'

Lady went silent for a minute, not sure if she should say what she wanted.

"_Dante,"_ Vergil stared at the man in front of him. _"You are the most useful man I have ever met. After today you are among those few people whom I would like to know closer. Just what goes on in that head of yours? What's wrong in your life? Why do you help me?.. You are strong as you are. What do __**you**__ want to earn?"_

'Vergil Sparda. Do you know why Dante pulled the trigger?'

'Well, I have an idea.'

_Sorry, Verge. The thing you wanted is broken. I am not usable anymore._

Vergil shivered, suddenly feeling uneasy.

'Either way, it's my fault.'

'**What?'**

'I was just weak physically when I arrived to Devil Never Cry, so I should have noticed, should have stayed alert. But I let my guard down and did not pay attention to Dante, very much like to all you humans. You interest me not. And I did not notice he was only hiding among humans; I did not notice he was drowning.'

Vergil tucked a stray lock behind Dante's ear.

'It's been a long time since I met devils like him. So long, that I forgot they even exist.'

'Nevan said the same. It looks like he stirs something inside your brainless demon heads. Or inside your heartless demon chests, I wonder?'

'I only know one of the numerous reasons he shot himself, and this one is my fault. When I came to his rescue, I said I only wanted to get back what belonged to me. Any human would be grateful and would have thanked me for the rest of his life. But Dante turned out to be a demon who could live through that, even if he was broken inside. He did not want rescue, he wanted an immediate revenge for the sake of his pride. But I said that it was all for me. He did not want to be a toy, neither in theirs nor in my hands. I don't know what happened to him before I came to this world, but that mistake of mine was the last drop. I broke him down and he told me so.'

_Sorry, Verge. The thing you wanted is broken. I am not usable anymore._

'He did not want to take it. The real humiliation was not the one **they** gave him. It was **me**. He did not want to surrender and become a doll. So he said **no**. He shot.'

Vergil could see it. Light blue eyes full of suffering looking at him. The whole world crumbling down, the heart beating in his chest stopping at the sound of the shot. Crimson on the wall, crimson on the floor. The white halo of hair. Fallen from grace to the dust. Fallen willingly, beautifully burnt inside. Miraculously broken. Red tears down his cheeks, the Bloody Tears Vergil had never seen before. The highest peak of pain, reflecting in those ice crystal eyes.

Imprinted in Vergil's memory. The most beautiful and the most scary look.

'You are right. Saving him does not seem like a suitable redemption.'

Vergil stood up and undid Dante's jeans, then slowly pulled them down his hips and off the devil hunter. He soaped the bast whisp and washed Dante's body carefully.

"_What is such a gorgeous demon doing hiding among humans?"_

'I'll go buy something to eat,' Lady's steps went downstairs.

Vergil was soaping Dante's thigh.

'I should thank you. It's true, before you pulled the trigger all I could see in you was… whether you were useful. Damn, it was the only thing on my mind since my arrival to the Human world. Who is it near me? Is this man or woman useful or should I dispose of them? Can they be manipulated? Is there anyone around me worth even a little trust? Tch, I got used to the word being hostile to me. This way of thinking is the bad habit that you get after spending too much time in the Underworld.

But… now that I think about you properly, you did not shoot because you were a human or a demon. Huh, another bad habit that will be rather hard to break, dividing the world into humans and demons. You shot because you were just being you, right, Dante?

And you are quite a titbit.

Wait, I didn't just tell you that you are attractive, did I? Seems like I will have to trouble that redhead bitch this time. It's been a long time since I was with a woman.'

Vergil looked at Dante's face, then his eyes cherished the neckline and his gaze slid down the devil hunter's shoulders, along the abs and to the slender hips and...

'Or with a man, for that matter.'

'What do you care, you are out,' an evil smile spread over Vergil's face and he stared at Dante's body shamelessly.

What could be better than a young healthy demon? Only sex with the demon stated above. It was so long ago that he almost forgot the feeling of claiming. The time of imprisonment was not a pleasant one to remember, so he pushed the dire memories away.

Vergil's fingers were absently tracing Dante's navel, his palm flat over the trail of white hair. Then his hand slid down, the fingertips finally caressing the soft member lightly, teasingly.

'Oh,' Vergil jerked his hand away and out of the crimson water, realizing what he was doing. 'Bathing is over, I guess.'

He quickly stood up and went to find some towels, or rather he went away not to look at the tempting body in the bathtub.

"_Stay with humans too long and look what happens to self-control."_

Vergil found several white Turkish towels inside that mess of a wardrobe that stood in Dante' bedroom. At least they were clean and nice to the touch. He threw the books and boxes from one of the leather armchairs to the floor – there was no way Vergil was going to put Dante into the same armchair where Lady had been sitting. So he cleared up the other one and threw the towels over it save for the last one – a small piece of cloth he intended to use for drying the devil hunter.

Back to the bathroom Vergil took Dante from the tub, stealing him from the red clutches of the water. He placed the wet body into the towelled armchair and started to wipe the crimson drops off Dante. It wasn't helping, with that confused state of mind of his, so Vergil hurried to finish this… distraction-ful task.

He swiftly dried Dante's face, tucking the disobedient white hair behind his ears. The soft cloth followed every curve of the devil hunter's body, from the exquisite jaw line past the collar bone to the relaxed shoulders and all the way to the scarred wrists to the elegant fingers. Wiping away the last reminders of that horrible day, warming up the clean skin of Dante's chest. A light touch over the stomach, along the hip and to the knee, the feel of well-trained muscles under the skin, the tension of might radiating from every cell.

'You really are something, Dante,' Vergil laughed at himself, wrapping the small towel around Dante's ankle and passing it along the arch of his foot and to his toes. 'To make me tend to you in such a way.'

Finally he moved Dante's naked body to the bed and covered him with the blanket.

Vergil stood up and looked around. There was something about the room that irritated Vergil. There was something that ruined his impression of a peaceful calm and it was nagging at him from somewhere at the back of his mind. **Disorder.**

The Dark Knight sighed and took _The enchantments in witchcraft _from the floor, the old leather-covered book with yellow pages. Wasn't it supposed to be in the lobby on a shelf?

'Excuse me,' came a shy voice from the corridor, and someone knocked on the door.

'What?' Vergil tore his gaze from the symbols in the book and looked at the demon in the doorframe.

'What do you intend to do with me?' Asked Dorian.

Vergil eyed him skeptically. The young demon looked confident even as his destiny was now decided by the person who loathed him the most.

'It is not of my concern. You were saved by Dante, so it is up to him to decide what is to become of you. As you see, he is now resting. So I suggest you do what might please him and beg to stay alive when he wakes up.' Vergil flopped the book close. 'I presume he wouldn't mind you helping me clean up his agency.'

'Oh,' Dorian nodded, 'I understand. Though,' Vergil saw the young demon hesitate and pluck at his white t-shirt. 'I have not practiced speaking to anyone of such noble origin as yourself for very long, so… would you consider excusing my… erm, possible impoliteness?'

'I will look over your poor choice of words as long as you show due respect.'

'Thank you, I am grateful. As to my previous… encounters… with you...'

'As to our previous encounters, as much as I would like to tear your head off, I have already had my revenge. Squashing Caleb's heart was more than entertaining. And refreshing Yamato with the bodies of those two was also rather nice. As to you… why did you not stay in the cell?'

'I got fed up with that… insanity,' Dorian averted his face.

'Hm. So far I could use you as a source of information about my enemy. I will forget what happened during my imprisonment until I discuss your position with Dante. So there is only one rule for you to remember. As long as you are useful, you are not dead. Is that understood?'

'Absolutely,' Dorian bowed slightly. 'So how can I be of service?'

'I believe Dante put everything in order before my arrival to Devil Never Cry except for his own room. But you are not allowed here without permission from now on. So I will leave the books and boxes in the corridor and instruct you on where to put them.'

'Understood.'

'But there is a matter that needs to be attended to immediately. Go to the first floor, at the end of the corridor across the bathroom, there is a storeroom. There should lay a body of a blonde woman. Get rid of it and clean up the blood.'

'Right away,' the young demon hurried out, closing the door behind him.

'Hm, it's pleasant to have a servant. Rather nostalgic,' Vergil turned to tidy up the room. He was putting on the floor a box with magazines and archives on murders in the city, when Dorian ran up the stairs panting.

'It's not there! The body is not there…' he breathed out, clutching the door-post for support.

'What?' Vergil dropped the box and rushed to the storeroom, Dorian following him.

The small room was lit with a single lamp hanging from the ceiling on an old cable. There were rugs and boxes here and a wide dark stain on the floor, the letters written in blood to the right of it.

'I hope your need for revenge was satisfied

If not, it's fine with me

Just talk to Dante

TALK to him'

'Trish,' Vergil sighed. 'So she lived through it. Whatever. It might be for the better.' He felt somehow fooled. 'In the end, she does know Dante much better than I if she asked me to talk to him. Maybe she knew he was breaking down?'

'What now?' Dorian's eyes followed every gesture, every move of the Dark Knight.

'Clean up here and stop staring at me. I am not going to kill you in the nearest future.'

Vergil left the store room. Trish did not matter yet. First of all, he needed to bring Dante back to consciousness. Everything else could wait.

.......................................

Lady opened the door of Devil Never Cry to see the lobby was cleaned up, Dante's desk on its place, Ebony and Ivory lay on it, near the sheathed Yamato. The shelves were surprisingly crammed with books that were put in order, presumably by Dorian. The demon himself was sitting on the purple couch cleaning one of the numerous guns owed by Dante, another one on the low table in front of him.

'Welcome back,' said the blonde demon without looking up. His long hair was tugged into a pony-tail so that it wasn't in the way. To Lady he seemed rather human-looking, a tall guy in average jeans and a white t-shirt. But some sixth sense was telling her to be careful and keep an eye on him.

'Where are those two idiots?'

'Sleeping. Did you bring the products?'

'Yes. And why are you still here?' Lady went into the kitchen, looking at Dorian with suspect.

'Dante is to decide whether to let me live or kill me. That's what V… Vergil said.'

'I see. So make some dinner for me and Vergil. And for yourself if you feel like it.'

"_Well if even Vergil is okay with him for now, I can relax as well."_

'By the way, it's a pleasure to meet you. My name is Dorian. And what is your name and who are you to Dante?'

'Lady, but call me whatever you like. I am a friend. Are you Dante's servant now or what?' joked Lady.

'Indeed I am starting today,' the demon finished with the guns and put them in the holders on the wall. He followed Lady into the kitchen and looked at what she brought.

'Oh,' she was surprised. 'Alright. If Vergil is not bothered by you staying at Devil Never Cry, I guess I have nothing to worry about. I'll go check on them.'

In the bedroom the three black leather armchairs were lined up at the left wall: two at the far corner, then the bathroom door, then the third armchair. To the right of the door stood the wardrobe with a mirror. An antique desk stood by the window, a suitable old chart at its side. The bed stood at the center of the right wall, high shelves with Dante's stuff like amulets, devil artifacts and photo albums on both sides. Dante was on the bed under the fresh white blanket, his head resting on the heap of pillows.

In front of the bed stood another chair, where Vergil was sitting, his legs crossed under the seat, his body bent forward uncomfortably. Vergil's hands lay over Dante's stomach, his head buried in the folds of the blanket facedown.

There was a heap of bandages on the floor and Vergil's shirt was not tucked into his trousers, but hung loosely and it seemed to be buttoned up in a wrong way.

'I see someone cleaned this room up,' Lady laughed. 'Wake up!'

Vergil sat up abruptly, dishevelled.

'What the hell?' he looked around to see what happened, still sleepy, the folds of the blanked imprinted on his cheek in red lines.

'Just look at you, so much for the scary almighty Dark Knight.'

'Shut up, bitch,' Vergil stood up, trying to fix his looks in front of the mirror.

'I see you took off the bandages.'

'Yes, I did that. The pain is gone.'

'But the medicine, if I guess right what that light-green sticky substance is, is still on your skin and hair.'

'Damn.' Vergil tried to wipe it off, but the ointment was all over his body so there was only one way to get rid of it. 'What did you wake me up for?'

'Dinner.'

'Fine. I will be down after I take a shower. And don't you dare trouble Dante.'

'The thought never crossed my mind,' Lady smile charmingly.

'Tsk,' Vergil closed the bathroom door behind him. 'Go out of this room, Lady. I don't hear your steps.'

She came up to Dante and studied him intently, the devil hunter looked fine.

'Okay. You are being so possessive,' she shook her head in mock disapproval and went to see in what condition their dinner was.

'Oh spare me,' muttered Vergil taking his shirt and trousers off quickly. He switched the water on and sneaked into the bathtub and under the hot jets of the shower.

Those several hours of dreamless slumber calmed Vergil a lot.

By the way, why did it take Lady so long? Oh, maybe she had some personal business, who cared.

The hot streams were running down his body and there was no pain anymore. It felt refreshing. Vergil closed his eyes, put one hand on the tiles for support and relaxed.

Everything was going smoothly. Dante was helping him, Lady knew where to get information, Trish got what she deserved and somehow was alive, so Dante won't be very upset; those who tortured him were dead, Dorian was a lead to whoever was responsible for the whole ruckus. Dante turned out to be a powerful stunning demon.

"_Mmm, he also has a nice body…"_

The water was pouring down Vergil, stroking like knowing fingers and he felt his member stir.

"_I did not do anything about the sexual tension, damn. Why now, it's annoying."_

Dante's body was a vivid picture in his memory, crimson water around the pale skin like a pool of blood, the lean, enthralling form.

'To touch it,' mouthed Vergil breathlessly. 'To feel it…'

His free hand kneaded the back of his neck that felt stiff after sleeping in that uncomfortable position and glided across his chest.

"_No, I don't need this now! There should be a way… Nevan? I don't have time to find her. Lady? No way, not that little poisonous cunt. Dorian? As much as I would like to break him and take him down, he's not an option. I won't ever dirty myself with that bastard. Uh, don't tell me...Shit, I never had to do this since I was a teenager. How did I fall so low…" _

Vergil frowned, but took his shaft in his hand and stroke experimentally. Pleasure slowly spread through his body.

"_It's still better than doing it with any of them…"_ he comforted himself and massaged his half-hard member lightly.

"_If only Dante wasn't unconscious. He definitely is worth going for. With that stately body of his, that power radiating from him…uh!"_ Vergil was jerking his now fully-erect sex not so gently anymore, his thumb touching the dark head occasionally, toying with it.

"_I am not supposed to do this. I am the Dark Knight; I never had a day when I could not find a woman to pleasure me. Fuck, it's so humiliating…" _With every move he felt more and more guilty, but Vergil could not stop anymore, his blood was aflame. He was panting, lips parted; wet fingers of water were slipping into his mouth shamelessly, teasing his lips.

"_Oh I need to touch someone… I yearn to kiss the salty sweat from the collarbone… I need to bite at somebody's throat… Uh, Dante, wake up so that I could claw at your chest down to your navel… I wish I could reduce you to a mindless wanton creature. I want your lips on me; I want your passion all over my skin… The best feeling of control over a living being. I want you thrashing on the sheets, hair damp with sweat, your icy eyes looking only at me, seeing only me… leaning into my touch, wanting more, begging for more…"_

Vergil bit his lip and his nails dug into the tiles, breaking them, his other hand squeezing his hard shaft.

'Dante!..' he cried out in a low husky voice, either commanding or pleading. The white cum covered his fingers, and to Vergil it seemed hotter than the water.

"_Shit. I ended up doing __**this **__and in the shower no less."_

His legs gave way and Vergil dropped down, his eyes still closed, his body exhausted but in a pleasurable way. He stayed there, sitting in the bathtub, motionless. Water made his hair fall down and cover his face; water was washing away the evidence of his weakness from his fingers; water was keeping him warm.

"_I feel so low,"_ thought Vergil lazily. _"But it all can go to bloody Hell."_

Vergil was brave enough not to lie to himself and he knew – whether it was the long no-sex period, or the result of him having new skin, or because of the ointment, or it was simply Dante – he knew that he had just had one of the best orgasms in his life.

And there was not a force in the universe that could make him move for at least the next half an hour.

**.......................................****endo chap 06.......................................**

Vergil is being selfish in giving in to his carnal desires. I find him sooooo cute!

And I am bad again, I delayed that D/V part that was supposed to be here already.

Sorry *Ethan is not sorry really. Cause just look what you got here!*

Feedback greatly appreciated, guys!

The **Reader-thanx pie **goes to **Sanguinary Tears**, you keep me alive, gurl!

**Next coming: ****more nc-17 content, this time involving Dante! Dante wakes up, Trish is back, Lady is helpful in sending Vergil and Dante to a hotel together. Just WHAT did you think for? On their way to where demons are, of course. To sleep, literally. What else!**

Now, beg for more! bwahahaha

Ethan


	7. Take counsel with your pillow

.......................................

**Babling**

.......................................

Yes, I did it!

**Warnings: **handjobX2. Yaoish. But that's what you are here for!

**Beta: Tora-Katana, **sharp and deadly as always *hugs*

**Bated over: Nimlinven,** picky and bitchy as always, but that's what I luv you for! *kisses*

_Italics –_ Voices in Vergil's memory

.......................................

**Chap 07**

**Take counsel with your pillow**

Vergil came down in an hour, his hair damp and combed back. He was dressed in Dante's old worn-out jeans and an unbuttoned white shirt. He was so very drowsy. Lady and Dorian were sitting in the kitchen; her figure in shirts and jacket, the white thin-black-striped costume, and the figure of the demon in a tasteless t-shirt and jeans, who apparently did not have any clothes to change into and not offend Vergil's eyes.

As soon as Lady heard the steps, she swiftly snatched one of her guns from the holster on her hip and shot, the bullet hitting accurately the center of Vergil's forehead.

He stumbled, his head thrown back by the force of the bullet, then looked at her, puzzled and unhappy and scratched at the wound, taking the bullet out and throwing it into the sink, wiping the blood off with a handkerchief lazily. Vergil looked at Lady, waiting for an explanation for such violence.

'Oh! Sorry, I slipped, self-preservation habit,' she shrugged. 'But finally Her Highness Princess Vergil deigned to felicitate us with Her presence! We should rejoice, for we, mortals, are blessed with Her divine Appearance!' Tiraded Lady from the table, a piece of fried pork on her fork. 'We bow to Your greatness, oh Mighty Bathroom-Wanker!'

Vergil was searching for an extra chair, but stopped dead in his tracks, frozen in front of the table.

"_Did they hear __**the name**__?"_ Vergil's heart dropped, smashed by the lead fear.

Thrown out of his sleepy after-shower state, he almost blushed and almost panicked. But the Dark Knight did not get that name for nothing, so he managed to keep himself under control, mostly. Inevitably, an ice fury was rising from inside him with surprising speed.

'I heard some… sighs,' coughed Dorian and looked down, putting the fork and the knife on the plate, to the side farther from the demon. 'Lady was… impatient and wanted to call you down for dinner. I insisted that she didn't interrupt your… private time.'

"_I doesn't seem like they heard anything important."_

'You life was worth sparing,' Vergil said coldly and turned right to face Lady, dark rage in his eyes. 'Did I - or did I not - say that I would go downstairs when I have had the shower?' he inquired.

'You said not to trouble Dante. And I thought all that noise…' grinned Lady and brought the piece of pork to her lips and sucked at it before chewing on it and swallowing the juicy meat.

'Are you trying to imply that I was noisy? Because if you are, I have to disappoint you.' Vergil put his hand on the table, dangerously close to where Lady's knife lay.

'Hm, I see. So You do not deny that some obscene actions took place, do You now, Your Highness?'

'Whether the indecent actions stated above took place or not, is none of your concern, My Lady. Prove me wrong if You can.' Vergil overcame the initial shock and smiled haughtily, standing up straight and folding his arms.

'I was just worrying for my well-being. I **am** staying at the same place as a demon who meant harm to Dante. And another demon, who means harm to practically every living creature in the world. The last, as I surmise you have already guessed, is **you**. Thus it is only natural that I want to know if you intend to further relieve your carnal desires by yourself. Because such a weak human girl as myself will be staying at Devil Never Cry. I need to know if I should expect a request for keeping you company.'

'Is that a reverse date proposal?' Vergil quirked an eyebrow. 'Forget it. 'Cause I make it a point not to go out with women who shoot me in the head.'

'Date a demon? I'm not that desperate,' Lady snorted at the demon towering over her. 'Besides, I really don't care for guys who stink like blood.'

"_So much for a difference between brothers." _Lady smiled inwardly.

'To reassure you, I might mention that whichever way I deal with my carnal desires, it will never ever in any way concern you.'

'Oh, I am so relieved, Your Highness.'

'Could you, perhaps, switch to some mortal language, please?' Dorian looked greenishly sick. 'Your verbal sparring causes me indigestion.'

Lady laughed. 'Sure. Sorry, I just couldn't help commenting on this stuck-up fellow self-servicing in Dante's bathroom.'

'Oh, shut up,' threw Vergil, finally bringing a chair from the lobby. He put some rice and a piece of pork on the plate and joined the other guests of Devil Never Cry for dinner.

'So Dorian,' Vergil finished his meal.

'Yes?'

'Who is behind all this?'

'I thought you knew. It's Caleb.'

'You saying that I killed the big fish by chance?'

'With all due respect, you did not kill him. That body was only one of the pawns possessed by the Lord. His true body should be somewhere in Cocytus.'

'Wonderful,' Vergil's face was dead serious, he frowned and it didn't take long for Lady to figure out he was scheming revenge. "_But to avenge whom? Himself, of Dante?"_

'Where is that?' Lady asked, relaxing into the back of the chair, a small bunch of grapes in her hand.

'You don't know?' Vergil smirked. 'Right, you are human.'

'So very witty, you **demon**!' snapped Lady. 'I did swear I would rid the world of the likes of you. Why not to make words come true right now?'

'An interesting oath. But what are you going to do about Dante, then? He is a demon, too, you know.'

'Dante,' Lady sighed, 'is a totally different matter. And I'm afraid I will have to insert you into the _don't kill_ list from sheer respect to him.'

'He seems be very popular with females around,' shrugged Vergil.

'And has the guts to say he has a rotten luck for women,' Lady informed him.

'But I have to agree with that: he does.'

'Come on you two. Honestly, why don't we discuss what I can tell you about your enemy and then retire to bed?'

'Cocytus is the capital of the Demon world,' said Vergil as a declaration of peace. 'No human has been able to get there. As you know, only the Hell Gate leads to the Demon world and it was sealed by my father, Sparda. The only way to open the Gate lies within the power of the Amulet, the Sparda blood and the blood of the priestess. It is practically impossible to open.'

'As alternative means, we have Yamato and Force Edge. But I thought you knew that I am the blood of the priestess, you are the blood of Sparda and Dante has the Amulet-Oops!' Lady clasped her hand over her mouth, but too late.

'Why does he have it? I sent the Amulet to him as well? That's impossible…'

'I remember Trish once told me that…' _"Shit, how do I __**not**__ tell him Dante's his brother? Bloody demons, can't you just figure everything out by yourselves? Okay, in for a penny – in for a pound. I am so going to lie now,"_ Lady finished up her grapes. 'Trish told me that your brother – no! I don't know him, she does. – that your brother got the two amulets together after the events at Mallet island. Deep in his heart your brother did not believe that you died, so he ordered Trish to leave the part of the Amulet that was yours with someone who could return it to you. That's how Trish found the Merchant.'

'The old hag who hangs about both worlds, transporting the devil mechanisms and devil arms?'

'Yes, the Merchant. However your brother stopped her at the very last second, he was afraid someone might steal it, so he hid the Amulet somewhere. The location is known to your brother, Trish, who is considered the guardian of the Amulet; and the last person who knows is Dante. He was… helping your brother at that time.'

'I see. It makes my task much easier.'

'Do you mean you want to go there? For real? Gimme a break!'

'I don't see any other options,' sighed Vergil. 'Let's see what Dante says when he's up. In the end, he has to have some say in this. I owe him.' He stood up, put the plate into the sink and walk out of the kitchen.

'Where are you going?'

'To rest. And don't you even think of setting foot in Dante's room. I'll look after him. See you tomorrow.'

'Uh, when will he stop being such a smart-ass?' Lady rolled her eyes. 'I stay in one of the rooms at the back, you watch over the lobby. In Devil Never Cry trouble always comes through the front door.'

.......................................

Vergil walked into the dark room without switching the lights on, the blue velvet of late evening comfortably engulfing him. He glanced at the chairs then at the bed where Dante lay.

'I know you won't mind,' too tired to care for his composure, he locked the door, let the shirt slip off him, undid the button on the jeans, kicked the shoes off and fell down on the bed near Dante. 'G'night.'

Lying was pleasant, the welcoming softness of the bed, the calm. But something was off.

Vergil unwillingly looked up and stole one of the numerous pillows from under Dante, burrowing his face in it. There was the smell of rain. The Dark Knight closed his eyes and imagined that downpour on top of Temen-Ni-Gru.

_I just don't like you. That's all._

'You are not that different from any other demon. You don't care,' murmured Vergil. 'You took what you could. But when everything was over and it was only us who were left, you did not do anything. You stayed in the Human world; did you ever want to avenge her? What did you feel there, sitting under the window as she was killed in front of your eyes? **Did **you even feel anything? What did you think when I so foolishly ran to her, when I took the second shot, protecting her – and you?'

Cold hands of his brother shaking him into consciousness, everything so cold. Vergil opened his eyes. Blood everywhere; his brother's face frozen, lips pressed tight together, a frown. No tears.

_Don't touch me!_ – He cried, and crawled back, further from that creature that she had to sacrifice her life for. It should have been him, who died that day. But what for? For _this_? For _this_ that could not even cry?

Her body lay on the floor, dried blood on her golden hair. Vergil stood up, shaking, and stumbled towards her. Her black skirt was torn, but they would patch it up. Her red jacket was ripped in shreds. They would buy her a new one, much better.

_Don't go there,_ - his brother whispered, grabbing his hand roughly to stop him. – _Don't look at it._

_It?_ – Tears in Vergil's eyes, he turned and slapped that insolent brat. – _I wish you would just die!_

His fingers closed on his brother's throat, Vergil throwing him of his feet and to the floor, squeezing with all he got.

_Why did you not die? It should have been you! _– Vergil whined through tears.

_Sto…_ - his brother wheezed, choking. – _I can't die… You… promised her…_

"_He knows about my promise to her!"_

_Is it all your plan, huh? Did you plan everything like this, you __**monster**__? – _Vergil shrieked, threw the limp body down and ran.

He ran, pushing the door wide open, hardly remembering to breathe. He ran, as far away as he could from that beast whose sole existence killed her.

When he returned in a month, his brother was there. No blood, no trace of what happened. Just a happy smile on that monster's face.

"_I will defeat you and claim all the power of Sparda for myself. And then it won't matter if I kill you, to avenge her." _Vergil sighed and clutched tightly at the pillow.

'Dante,' someone knocked on the door. 'It's me, Trish; I need to talk to you immediately, concerning Vergil. We had a fight in the morning and I need your help to know if he still wants to kill me.'

The Dark Knight sat up and looked at the door. Did he want to kill her?

"_Not really. Speaking to her in the morning was... She knows a lot about both my brother and Dante. She could help me find that monster. And she knows where the Amulet is."_

'No, I don't think I want to kill you anymore,' Vergil stood from the bed rubbing his neck and went to unlock the door, groping for the handle in the dark. He found the key and turned it; the door clicked and opened a little. Vergil eyed Trish through the chink curiously.

She retreated back to the corridor wall, staring at him in her turn, eyes wide. She seemed afraid.

'Where is Dante?'

'Resting,' He noticed her bandaged hands. 'I see you are alive.'

'It takes more to kill a demon, don't you know,' Trish seemed to be waiting for assault, but nothing came.

'Right. Maybe I did not really intend to kill you then. You are a mere doll, anyway. Not like it's your fault you are heartless,' Vergil leaned at the door frame.

'The only heartless bas-' Trish sighed, she knew better than say that word to any of the twins. 'Here is you. But you are strangely tolerant, what did I miss?'

'Dante,' Vergil snickered. 'Managed to prove I should assume every living being in the Human world could turn out to be my equal.'

'That was quick,' Trish folded her arms and relaxed a bit. 'Isn't he something else?'

'He is,' nodded Vergil.

'Do you mind if we go outside to sort things out between us?' Trish could not believe it was actually happening. The older Sparda was at Devil Never Cry, he was past hating her and she actually had a chance to help Dante with that stubborn brother of his. She definitely had to take that chance, even if it could ruin everything.

'Fine,' Vergil glanced back at Dante to make sure he was alright. The owned of Devil Never Cry lay still, the moonlight licking his chiselled features tenderly. 'Wait,' Vergil strode up to the window and opened it, a wave of fresh night air bursting into the room; then he pulled the old velvet curtains shut and darkness embraced everything.

'That's better', Vergil closed the door and followed Trish downstairs.

She wore the same black corset and tight leather tousers as always. But her hair was the same honey colour he remembered from childhood.

In the lobby Vergil noticed Dorian on the couch, the demon cast a glance at them but seeing nothing dangerous settled back, throwing his hands behind his head.

Trish went out of the agency and sat on the stairs. Vergil came out as well and raised his head. The pitch-black sky was powdered with small sparkling stars.

'So, what did Dante do if your human nature started to wake after such a long slumber?'

'He blew his brains out.'

'What?' – Trish turned to Vergil abruptly. 'You serious?'

'Don't worry, I healed him. He will be alright soon. I made him drink the blood from a demon's heart.'

'That was unexpected,' Trish tried her best to calm down and not to shout at Vergil that it was his fault. 'I thought he was over all that suicidal crap when you came. What happened?'

'I figured while I was devotedly crucifying you, he was kidnapped by Caleb, who is responsible for my imprisonment in the Demon world. They thought **he** was Vergil,' he put his hands into the pockets of Dante's jeans. There was a coin in one of them. 'I and Lady went to rescue him, but when we arrived, I was… rather tactless. I never would have guessed he was a demon himself, hiding among lowlife humans.'

'Correction, he was not hiding. And cut all the _lowlife_ crap, emphasizing your origin does not make you any nobler, it only makes the impression worse.'

'I might do that.'

'Wow, I **am **impressed **now,**' Trish stared at the half-naked demon, who was still scrutinizing the night sky. 'It must have been quite a sight if it changed you so.'

'Yes. It was horrifying. He was looking into my eyes when he pulled the trigger. I think I am never going to forget his face,' Vergil whispered.

Trish went silent for a couple of minutes to let Vergil get over his memories.

'I don't think he was serious, though. I mean, about dying. Even if he had decided in his soul that he wanted to, he wouldn't be able to disappear from this world. You know why, Vergil?'

'No. How can it be?' he turned to Trish to hear the answer. She was staring into the night street, avoiding looking into his eyes.

'Long ago, he told me, he made a promise to protect you and take care of you. So he won't die until you do,' Trish smiled to herself. 'And I hope sincerely that he doesn't kill me for telling you this.'

'Why did he make that promise?' she heard in his voice that Vergil was amazed.

'You should ask him yourself after everything settles down. But not earlier. So,' Trish stood up, 'instead of dealing with our little problem, we discussed Dante. He definitely is the center of attention everywhere.'

'I don't really care about you. So you can just live as you did before. What I am interested in, is the Amulet.'

'What do you need it for?'

'To open the Hell Gate and go to the Underworld. This is where Caleb is. If I stop him – I can stop the demon rebellion.'

'What you say is believable, but I will leave it to Dante to decide. And,' she opened the door to Devil Never Cry, but stopped to tell him: 'I am not an artificial doll anymore, have truly become a half-human. It was Dante's tears that made me so.'

Trish went back into the agency but Vergil stayed several more minutes to feel the night. He then returned to Dante and fell to the bed.

'Conundrum,' he told sleeping Dante accusingly and closed his eyes.

.......................................

Vergil's eyes snapped open. The bright orange rays were trying to penetrate the curtains. The golden light of the morning was enveloping the room, clearing everything of the uncertainty of the night and drawing everything clear.

He was cold. Some fucker was stealing his blanket the whole night.

'Give it back,' he groaned hoarsely, turning right, and pulled the blanket forcefully to uncover a slightly tanned shoulder and a mop of white hair. 'Who the…'

Human world, Devil Never Cry, Dante.

'You are supposed to be ill and lie here quietly,' he complained and grabbed some more of the blanket.

Dante lay with his back to Vergil. A well-trained back, worked up enough to have the muscles teasingly outlined. The two strong hands, both pushed under the pillow did not help at all, uncovering the ribcage, the line of Dante's body then flowing down at the waist and slightly up to break at the hip.

Before Vergil knew his hand left hand followed the route of his thoughts, from the devil hunter's shoulder, stroking the ribs, sliding on the soft skin until it was finally resting on Dante's thigh.

'Just look what I got,' chuckled Vergil. But he knew precisely what he got.

"_A morning hard-on."_

"_And a drool-worthy man in my bed. It's his bed. Whatever, the same bed"_

"_The hair that begs to be fisted and tugged at. The neck that was made to be licked and bitten. The back that exists to be scratched and bruised. The hips… Why does my mind gets so literate and verbose so early in the morning?"_ Vergil rolled his eyes but did not move his hand away.

He glanced at the old clock on the wall. It was seven.

"_But who wakes up at seven in Devil Never Cry? Don't make me laugh."_

Vergil looked back at Dante. The jeans were so rough against the tender skin of his hard shaft.

'I wonder if you have the same problem,' his hand itched to move either under the blanket to find the answer or into his jeans to free his straining erection. Instead Vergil's fingers skimmed over Dante's hip, ghosting over the open skin.

A soothing delicious movent. Dante winced and produced a satisfied half-moan, turning to lie on his back.

Vergil jerked his hand away, looking in awe at the vision before him. The devil hunter was spread on the mess of the bed-sheets, the blanket barely over his thighs, a lean form, an exquisite ensemble of tendons and edges, taut muscles under the silky skin. The pillow slipped to the floor, his hands up, his head cast to the side – for Vergil to see the sensually opened dry lips. Dante was breathing slowly, his chest rising and falling, mesmerizing. Then there was the flat stomach and a trail of white hair, disappearing right as the refined edges of the hipbones were covered with the white cloth of the blanket.

'Oh am getting so lewd,' a lecherous smile spread over Vergil's lips as he turned to the side to lie facing Dante and supporting his weight with his right elbow, the fingers of his right hand locking over Dante's wrists at the same time. 'You are just begging to be taken advantage of.'

If it was any other place and any other creature, Vergil wouldn't have spent an instant to think what to do. But this was Dante, and after suicide no less.

'Maybe we could compromise,' Vergil whispered hotly into Dante's ear, his breath over the devil hunter's cheek. Some strangled humming was all the answer he got.

Vergil's left hand slid over Dante's neck and up to tangle in the white locks, tug, and arch the devil hunter's head back. The thin lips fell open.

Vergil licked his own. _"No, this can become complicated if I do. So let's stick to the neck instead." _He leaned in and caressed the skin with his lips, tasting the smooth silk, the light smell of the rain kicking in. He slowly moved up, sucking gently at the slightly salty skin, kissing his way up to the ear, until he was cheek to cheek with Dante.

'You are one addictive bit,' he told the devil hunter and ran his hand back along the flushed neck and lower, fingertips brushing the chest and then rubbing one pert nipple.

Dante inhaled sharply and gasped, trying to pull one of his hands out of the firm grip ineffectively.

'Quite sensible, aren't you? Maybe, you haven't had any fun in a long time just like me?' asked Vergil and moved closer, leaning against Dante, the curves of their bodies touching from fingers to hip, Vergil half-lying on top of the devil hunter. 'I wonder what will happen to you when I get my hands on _there…_'

Vergil's left hand groped lower, his fingers crooking to suddenly scratch at Dante's ribs and then massage at his waist carefully.

'Want some more, don't you?' the devil hunter's breath was uneven symphony against his ear, sighs and gasps and pants. Vergil pecked at Dante's jaw line, smiling mischievously, grabbed the blanket and in a wide movement sent it flying over his side and to the floor, earning a sultry whimper that made the Dark Knight very aware of his human need, as his member jerked in the confinement of the jeans.

Vergil's eyes scoped down the devil hunter's body and fixed on the rigid sex now uncovered. He reached out and passed his index finger over the darkened head down the length, exited flesh yearning for the touch. The slender fingers snaked around the shaft and pulled, ripping a loud cry from the now moist lips at his neck, sending the body under him thrashing.

'I never really was into taking it slow, but you are so entertaining,' Vergil lowered himself and whispered against Dante's lips teasingly. 'So eager.'

He was slowly working the devil hunter's member, cherishing the smooth skin over the steel hardness, thumbing the head and spreading the pre-cum down. Dante was trembling under him, panting and moaning loud, pulling his hands free but to no avail. Another tight tug made Dante buck up and bend his legs at the knees, pulling them closer.

'Stay down, you are the prey,' hissed Vergil and threw his leg over Dante's, pinning him to the bed. The devil hunter's hip rubbed against his aroused member and Vergil choked, letting his head fall into the crook of Dante's neck.

'Here's you revenge, you stubborn stud,' he murmured, jerked the member in his hand a couple of times and grazing the head roughly right along the slit. Another throaty cry caressed his ear and brought a self-satisfied smirk to his face. 'There, much better,' Vergil returned to the slow torment he took such pleasure in.

Everything was hot, so very hot. Dante's whole body was aflame, shocks of bliss ripping through him like bolts of arousing electricity. It felt like there was someone pleasuring him. Through the haze Dante could distinguish lips planting burning kisses at his collarbone and neck, a body pressed close to his right side and tenacious grip on his shaft, fingers moving at one moment blandly, at another squeezing hard, the nails almost scratching the tender skin.

'Hnn, what the hell…' Dante mumbled and tried to rub his eyes, but for some reason was held in place.

'Morning,' a hoarse voice whispered in his ear, making him even harder. The devil hinter opened his eyes and the world slowly became clear, Vergil's face suddenly very close to him, whispering with a wicked smile: 'Hush, don't move.'

'Verge? What are you doing in my room-…**what are you doing?**' cried Dante and wriggled, trying to pull away.

'First, shut up!' hissed Vergil and jerked Dante's cock rough for emphasis, effectively silencing him. 'What's wrong? '

'Just what are you doing?' Dante desperately tried to calm down, but Vergil was still manhandling him mercilessly.

'Helping you to relive a little tension?'

'You can't do that!' Dante was flaming with embarrassment.

'Why not?'

'Cause I'm not gay!' the devil hunter tried to break away but the grip on his wrists just tightened and he was too hot to put up any decent confrontation.

'Me neither,' drawled Vergil in his ear. _"Now that I started all this, I am not letting you out."_

'It's not normal!'

'You want to say, you are a relative of mine? I know, and doesn't matter, it's just little help.'

'I don't want you to!' panted Dante, shutting his eyes close, wishing it all to go away.

'Oh, but you do,' Vergil suddenly switched to a maddeningly slow pace, his fingers barely touching Dante's member. He pressed at the head lightly and stopped, breathing out 'Now, look at me.'

The devil hunter cracked an eye open. Nothing changed, so he looked at Vergil and regretted it the same instant.

Vergil was close and topless, his skin sliding over Dante's. The devil hunter could see his shoulder and his arm, leading down to where he did not want to admit. The small drops of sweat were breaking out on his brother's skin, making it glisten. His hair was damp, falling down so much like Dante's own. Vergil's eyes were transfixed on him, making the devil hunter feel like the center of the whole universe, those icy eyes following his every move.

'Say you don't want me,' whispered Vergil's bitten reddened lips and the tongue darted out to soothe them.

'I… don't…' croaked Dante and his whole body shook.

'Liar,' panted Vergil, his breath a warm breeze over Dante's lips pulling them ajar. 'It's nothing wrong.'

'How come?'

'It's just you and just me. Nobody's offended,' persuaded Vergil sincerely.

'You sure, Verge?' the devil hunter was bewildered.

'Absolutely. So, you are not going to run away now, are you?'

"_It's Vergil. It's all so wrong, but he says it's just a trivia… he's always right anyway. And he's so… sincere and honest."_

"_Honest,"_ the thought made Dante's cock stir in his brother's hand.

'Does it not bother you that we look so alike?'

'You are you. That is all I care for,' convinced Vergil, barely able to control himself. _"Give in already or I am going to do this the wrong way. Shit, why do you provoke this side of me that gets off on manipulating?" _'You fine?'

'Yeah,' Dante looked at his disheveled brother.

'Can I go on?'

'You can try,' the devil hunter turned away and blushed profusely.

'Don't provoke me. Or is that a challenge?' Vergil smirked and let go of Dante's sex. He sat up, still pinning the demon hunter's hands down. His free hand grasped Dante under the knee and moved his leg to the side. Vergil immediately made use of the space and stuck his jeans-clad leg there, now hovering over the devil hunter.

'What are…' Dante's breath caught in his throat as his brother's fingers were back on him, tweaking his nipple. 'I did not… agree to this…'

'Just enjoy,' Vergil said, kissing Dante's jaw line and licking lower, starting another journey, down his neck. Every move suddenly became much more deliciously intense. The body beneath him was slithering under his ministrations, shamefully jolting each time his lips touched the heated skin, each suck like a lash, making Dante flex and arch up until he reached his brother's chest and glided along the moist skin then to fall down helpless.

Vergil's free hand stoke Dante's side.

'You closed your eyes again,' the demon complained. The devil hunter sighed and looked at him, puzzled.

'There,' Vergil smiled viciously and grasped Dante's neglected cock, making him try to break his hands free. 'No running away,' Vergil warned and let go of his wrists.

Hands suddenly free, Dante did not know what to do, but then Vergil was jerking him off again, at that slow pace that left his desire blazing, thumb sliding over the head occasionally, as if by chance.

"_What will you do now?"_ somehow, Vergil's heart leaped up with fear. Then two hands spread over him like wings and locked over his shoulders, drawing him down stubbornly.

Vergil's right hand gave way and he fell awkwardly, his face in the bed-sheet, his shoulder strangling Dante, who coughed and then moaned immediately, throwing his head back in pain.

'Sorry,' the older Sparda loosened his hold on the shaft he did not know he clutched so tightly.

'Don't be,' muttered Dante.

'Alright,' laughed Vergil and turned his head do the devil hunter's side. 'Gimme a pillow, I don't want to lie with my face into the bed-sheet.'

One of Dante's hands let go and fumbled for a pillow, then shoved it over his brother's head.

'Thanks,' sarcastically crawled from under it.

After some wiggling the pillow was under Dante's head and Vergil was on his elbows, each on the side of the devil hunter's face, and knees, one of which slid up and pressed between Dante's thighs, forcing a gasp out of him.

'Verge,' he whispered with no evident reason.

Vergil smiled and set a steady rhythm, pumping the devil hunter's member. Those hands were at his back again, clutching and searching for something to grab at, but finding nothing and just sliding over the tensed muscles, still holding him close.

'Right. Hold on to me for dear life,' the older Sparda encouraged. He wore a very self-assured smile until Dante pulled his knee up and brushed it at his crotch.

'Fuck! Dante, what are you…Oh my, don't…'

The smile now belonged to Dante, who was rubbing his knee at the hardness inside Vergil's jeans. Wait, weren't those _his_ jeans?

Dante's hand snaked under his brother, pulled the zipper and squeezed at the hot wet flesh.

'Ah, no-…' Vergil's face was right in front of him, so Dante saw very clearly as his brother shut his eyes, cried out, red lips open sinfully wide, raw pleasure in his features, the hot seed hitting Dante's fingers and splattering over his stomach as well.

At the same moment Vergil's hand instead of letting go pulled roughly and quickly at Dante's hardness, sending him, too, over the edge. He cried out in pain and bliss and yanked his hand across his brother's back, nails digging into flesh and scratching the skin. His semen coated Vergil's fingers and intermixed with his brother's cum on his stomach.

Next, Vergil fell down on him, unable to support his weight anymore.

'Fuck,' panted the older Sparda, amazed.

'Oh, shit,' agreed Dante, gasping for air, rubbing absently at Vergil's shoulder-blade. 'You can let go of me now,' he noted.

'Uh, right,' Vergil dragged his hand from under his own body and looked at their semen.

"_I think it's his nature to convince people they got him, then to turn the tables and make them a boneless mess."_

'I feel like after sex,' Dante complained.

'Of course you do, blockhead. You just came.'

'You might be right.'

'Shut up, grab the blanket and give it to me,' murmured Vergil, exhausted.

'The blanket is on the floor and you lie on top of me, so you grab it,' retorted Dante.

'Fuck, fine!' Vergil moved a little to the side, further mixing the sticky substance on their stomachs, and groped for the blanket on the floor. He finally felt some cloth and dragged it back on the bed. Dante's hands caught a corner as well and together they managed to cover themselves.

'I'm all dirty,' sighed Dante.

'Stop complaining, I am as well. But I am not moving even for all the bitches in Hell.'

'Is that a compliment?'

'Shuddup, I'm smashed.'

'After a little help?' teased Dante.

'Argh, shut that pretty mouth of yours before I invent some new way to use it!' Vergil smacked his hip.

'Ouch,' the comment scared Dante a little. 'Um, you are not weightless, move?'

'I said shut up!' Vergil's head lay on his shoulder.

A hand sneaked from under the blanket, fisted Dante's hair and jerked roughly.

'It hurts, asshole!'

'It is supposed to! Now, shut up and let me sleep a little more,' Vergil closed his eyes, one hand tangled in the white locks, the other holding Dante's hip tightly.

'Whatever.' Dante sank into the pillow, embracing his brother. A minute passed when one of Dante's hands slid up and roughly tugged at Vergil's hair.

'Fuck!'

'Revenge,' snickered Dante.

'Fucker,' mumbled Vergil. 'Correction, stubborn fucker.'

**.......................................****endo chap 07.......................................**

**If after this I don't get A TON of reviews – **

**I will freaking give up the whole thing!**

**Cause I deserve encouragement! I DO!**

**Sanguinary Tears, **here, they are in bed! *serves* Wait, don't grope them yet, let me put the cherry on top ^_^

**ladysubaru83, thank you **for the marvelous idea of the Lady teasing Vergil.

**sexy blue eyed devils **a cookie for you.

**Next: **who knows what? Check in a couple of days.

Flatter me, bastards!

~Ethan


	8. Rocking the Pumpkin

.......................................

**Babling**

.......................................

Hello guys. You have been not nice to me **AT ALL** but whatever. I just wrote this so I post.

**Be****tad by Tora-Katana.** You rule my world, girl!

**Betad over by Nimlinven.** You are awesome, your patience has no boundaries! *drool*

_Voices from the past_

"_Thoughts (both past and present)"_

.......................................

**Chap 08**

**Rocking the Pumpkin**

The late morning was all over the room, bright sunrays warm on Dante's bare skin. Everything was comfy and so warm: the heap of pillows, the crumpled blanket. The owner of Devil Never Cry lazily opened his eyes and stretched himself.

There was something unpleasantly stuck to the lower part of his stomach.

'Oh, fuck,' all the good mood was wasted. Morning, waking up with Vergil, jerking off… 'Shit.'

Dante sat up and looked at the half-closed window.

"_This is all bullshit. Vergil is in the Underworld if not dead because of my stupidity. This is a dream…a dream…"_ Dante felt sick; an ice-needled crystal where the heart was supposed to be. _"All a dream. There is no way he would have asked for my help, he wouldn't have believed… but,"_ he pulled his legs to his chest and hung his head down. _"I wish I could just start anew… just like that, helping him out. With no hatred between us… wait, what did… why did he do __**that**__? He shouldn't have touched me like that! He would have never…"_

'This is all my morbid imagination, damn it,' Dante put his arms around himself and hid his face in the folds of the blanket. 'I guess he was right that day. I **am** a monster.'

That night from many years ago was dark. He felt something, something horrifying was coming closer.

_Dante,_ – she opened the door and saw him sitting on the bed, awake. –_ Dear, I thought you were asleep._

_Can't sleep,_ - he sighed.

_Look Dante, I need you to come with me for a second, -_ she held out her hand for him.

_Okay,_ - he took her hand and they went downstairs.

_Dante,_ - she seated him under the window. – _I have to ask you to forgive me for this. I hope when you grow up, you will understand, _- she kissed him on the cheek and suddenly cuffed his hand to the iron radiator.

_Mum, what's wrong?_ – Dante pulled his hand in vain. – _What's wrong?_ – He yelled. - _Where is Verge? Where are you going? Where are… Mum, stop, something bad is coming from there, don' go, please! Let's take Verge and run away!.._

_Dante,_ - she turned to him one last time, smiling, -_ don't forget what you promised me._

_I won't forget, just don't go!_

She was gone for a minute; everything was silent. Dante was scared and he shouted:

_Vergil! Verge! Wake up, we are in trouble, mum-_

The door flew open and her body fell in front of Dante, clothes torn down, right hand hanging helplessly and bleeding heavily.

_You are not going to get them!_ – She said confidently and moved to hide him with her body.

"_No! Tell me it is all a dream! Stop it! I need to stop it! I need to.."_

Dante was trembling, jerking his hand violently to take it out of the cuff, but only tearing off the flesh. It was useless, he desperately reached out for her with his free hand.

_What happened-… – _Vergil ran out of the room where he was sleeping.

The next moment she cried out, the bloody spears striking through her chest as she protected her child with her own body, hot red drops fell on Dante's cheeks – and it was dead silent.

_Mum! _- Shrieked Vergil and ran to her, the moment he was in front of Dante _something_ entered the room and his brother's body hit the wall right next to where Dante sat. Vergil was unconscious.

_So, you two are the children of that rebel Sparda,_ - the dreadful thing talked to Dante. – _Do not worry, everything will be over for you soon…_

_Take me, but don't harm Vergil!_

_Sorry, little one, but it's impossible._

_No!_ – cried Dante, shutting his eyes close.

"_Leave us alone, leave! Disappear! Just __**disappear!**__" _Everything shook and there was a wail of a thousand voices. When Dante opened his eyes, the _thing _was not there, the bloody trail leading to the door. The cuff at his wrist was wrenched into an ugly piece of metal.

She lay in the middle of the room. In disbelief; Dante ran to her, embraced her and looked at her face-… She did have a face. There was only a dark red mask framed by her hair the colour of honey. Nothing, only the flesh.

"_Dead…" _Whole Dante's being froze, time stopped for him.

He frowned and put her body down, carefully hiding the violated flesh under her locks.

"_She died for me. I did not want it… I did not... If only I hadn't been here. If only I had not been born as __**his **__son, if only I could cease to exist… She would still be here. Why? Why did I kill her? Why did I have to… Why did she ask me to make that promise? Mother… She died."_

Empty eyes searched the room and found another body.

_Vergil! - _Dante's cold trembling hands shook his brother by the shoulders. Vergil came to and looked at him, in an instant fear filling his eyes.

_Don't touch me!_ – He cried, and crawled back, further from Dante.

"_What's wrong? I just want to help him…"_

Then Vergil noticed her, stood up, shaking, and stumbled towards her, not seeing anything else.

"_He must not see that. He does not deserve such pain. Let it be only me to know the truth. I must stop him."_

_Don't go there,_ - Dante whispered, grabbing his brother's hand roughly to stop him. – _Don't look at it._

_It?_ – Tears in his eyes, Vergil turned and slapped him. – _I wish you would just die!_

"_I wish I could do just that," _a sincere wish in Dane's heart, _"It is my fault, after all, that she died. I wish I just could…"_

Vergil's fingers closed on his throat; his brother threw him of his feet and to the floor, squeezing hard.

"_Why did I not die? It should have been me!"_ Dante clutched weakly at his brothers hands.

_Why did you not die? It should have been you! _– cried Vergil desperately and another something inside Dante snapped and broke.

"…_Dante, promise me, that you will protect Vergil._

_Sure, mum, no prob._

_So, will you protect him all your life?_

_If you want me to. But does he really need protection? And by me?_

_Of course he does. When you feel bad, you can talk to me. But one day, I won't be able to be with you two, so I want it to be you to look after Vergil and be there when he needs someone to talk to._

_Okay._

_So, promise me that you will not die before him, that you will be by his side until the end. Say you will always be together, helping each other._

_I promise. I won't die, we'll always be together and we'll always help each other._

_I want you both to live a long happy life, Dante, so survive, whatever it takes._

_It's a promise, mum."_

_Sto…_ – Dante wheezed, choking. – _I can't die… "I have to live." You… "I have to protect you!" promised her… "I promised her!"_

_Is it all your plan, huh? Did you plan everything like this, you __**monster**__? – _Vergil shrieked, threw Dante's limp body down and ran out. Dante saw him, pushing the door wide open, and running away fast, not looking back.

_Of course I am a monster, – _whispered Dante. – _I am the son of a demon. That's what all those creatures say. I hope you did not get his blood, brother. Because look what I've done. I've ruined everything. The demon's blood is the curse that killed her, the curse that is going to ruin everything I love. Run away from me, I don't want you to be killed as well…_

Dante lay on the floor until dawn, her hand in his hand, the smell of her golden hair so close.

At some point he stood up, his whole body stiff, took her in his arms and walked slowly out, not feeling anything, his stare empty, not feeling the weight of her body.

It was chilly outside, the graveyard silent. Dante put the now cold body onto one of the marble plates and fell to his knees. He started digging the hard ground with his hands, breaking the nails, scratching his fingers till they were a mess of blood and mud.

He stood very still, a dark square of earth amidst the grass before him. She was there, safe under the ground. No one would ever sadden or worry her. But her smile would also stay buried with her.

_I am sorry!_ – Dante shouted and fell down, clawing at the grass. – _'I am sorry!'_ – He yelled and tears started to roll down his cheeks, hot and salty. – '_I did not want you to die, I am so sorry! Forgive me! Forgive me! __**Forgive me!**__' _

He lay at the grave, exhausted, until the sun went down and then up again. Then down and up, again… Dante did not know how many days passed. He finally stood up and went back home. There were promises to be kept.

Home became an empty place. It was neat and clean when in a month Vergil returned. Dante ran to the front door, smiling for the first time since that night. He had never been so happy to see his brother.

Their eyes met. There was a surprise in Vergil's stare, but then – hate. Sharp pain ripped through Dante as he realized nothing was going to be the same. He lost his brother the same second he lost his mother. The smile on Dante's face froze but did not fade away.

_Welcome,_ - he grinned. The mask of mirth was disgusting and heavy, burning and breaking him inside.

'It was so long ago… I have always been a monster,' snickered Dante bitterly, sitting on the bed. 'Nothing changed. Dreaming such disgusting things about my brother.'

He sighed and went into the bathroom to wash off the evidence of his fall.

'There is nothing that can wash the dirt off the soul, is there?' he asked the void.

Dante found a pair of jeans and an old white sweater. Did Trish clean up his room? Bothersome.

'Everything as usual,' he trudged downstairs, it was quiet in Devil Never Cry. Dante threw his stubborn hair out of his face and walked into the kitchen, muttering: 'Vergil is in the Underworld. I am the same pathetic mess.'

'Morning, sleepyhead!' said Lady.

'Good morning,' nodded Dorian.

'Morning,' Vergil looked at him curiously, then frowned. 'Everyone, leave. I said **out**!'

Lady and Dorian were startled, but quickly left the forks and the scrambled eggs and went to the lobby.

'Have a seat,' Vergil gestured for the owner of Devil Never Cry to sit opposite him. Dante did not move. 'Come on, you shocked face tells me we need to talk. I can suspect I should fill you in on what precisely happened before your suicide.'

'I killed myself?' Dante slowly sat on the chair and reached out to Vergil, his hand stopping hesitantly over the middle of the table. _"Is he real? Is he really here?"_

'Yes, you attempted. But Trish told me you wouldn't have died anyway. What?'

'Nothing,' Dante jerked his hand back.

'Wait, I'll bring you some food and then start the explanation.' Vergil went to the cooker and put the scrambled eggs with ham from the frying pan to the plate. The portion seemed to have been left for Dante. 'Juice?'

'I would have asked for whiskey, but you won't give it to me anyway.'

'No, I wouldn't. Too early for that and alcohol won't help you. Here,' Vergil put the plate before Dante and handed him a glass of orange juice.

'Um, thanks,' Dante took hold of the glass, his fingers bushed Vergil's and he halted.

"_He__** is**__ real. This is Vergil… he is here with me, in my kitchen."_

'So,' Vergil was back in his place. 'Bon appétit.'

'Thanks,' repeated Dante stupidly and started to eat.

'I don't know what happened after I took that damned potion that you brought. No, it worked perfectly, but it was one hell of a dream afterwards. So when I woke up in the morning you were already gone. I had an argument with Trish and… as much as hate to state the obvious, I tried to kill her.'

Dante choked on the food and coughed.

'I did not, though. I suppose you know that she has my mother's appearance which she used in order to weaken me before my fight with Mundus. So I don't have any tender feelings for her at all. That morning I was sure I killed her. Then as soon as I found out you had been kidnapped, I left Devil Never Cry with Lady to rescue you. We were a little late, I must apologise, and I said some cruel and selfish things to you. It must have been one of the reasons you shot yourself in the head.'

Dante stopped eating and was looking at the table. Vergil's words triggered his memory and every minute of the past several days was clear in his mind now.

'Where is your brother?' asked Dante, his voice trembling.

'No idea. Why?'

'Thought so,' Dante sighed. 'Whatever. Sorry about the shot.'

'Don't be. This was how I learned you are a demon.'

'But …how did you go there? How are you… can you see? Can you see me?'

'Literally yes, but not the way you imagine.'

'Do you know we look alike?'

'Yes. Lady told me we were family, you being a distant relative of my father Sparda. I must thank you for taking my place and… well, being kidnapped in my stead.'

'You can drop the topic, it's not what I consider a nice chat in the morning. Where is Trish?'

'Went to buy wine.'

'Okay. …where did you sleep last night?'

'Here, in Devil Never Cry. Why?'

'Oh. I see.'

_It was true. Thank all that is divine, he's here. But,"_ Dante smiled bitterly at himself, _"My sins are my own. That damned dream…"_

'V… Vergil.'

'Yes?'

'What do we do now?'

'Get ready for a journey, of course!' Trish laughed from the door. 'Hey, how are you doing, crackpot?'

'Fine, auntie,' grunted Dante.

'Wasn't I your Mum?' Trish put three bottles of wine on the table.

'Cut it!' snapped Dante at her.

'Okay, sorry. I see you are in the foul mood. Anyway, Lady and I would like to send both of you on a nice trip for two to the town of Oberon. I hear the news that many demons appear near the town, their numbers increasing drastically during the last three days. As to you, Dante, this is a job and you **will** take it. Because our breakfast was your last money used up.'

'I am broke? You girls cleaned me out with all those boutique bills, go do the job yourself!' The devil hunter scolded.

'No, you **will** go. Because Vergil already sees that this is a related case.'

'Related to what?'

'To the demons pursuing me,' Vergil commented, deep in thought. 'But you don't have to go, you have done enough. Moreover, I have Yamato with me; I can take care of myself.'

'You can't take Yamato there, it should stay in Devil Never Cry. Where did you find it anyway?'

'Under your bed, where else? What do you mean I can't take it?' Vergil sounded amused at the protest. 'Yamato is my sword and it is none of your concern where I prefer to have it.'

'I didn't **give **Yamato to you, which means it's still **mine**. And I do not allow you to take it to the enemy's lair, because those demons were originally after the sword. If they get their paws on it, they will open the Hell Gate! And I can't have that.'

'Your words have some reason, but this place doesn't seem to be reliable, especially if we talk about hiding such an important and powerful sword.' Vergil eyed the old building of the agency with doubt.

'Devil Never Cry is protected well enough by Dante's name alone,' Trish explained. 'This protection is the best you can get. No demon is dumb enough just to walk into here; the small fries that sometimes do get in can be easily eliminated. Apart from that I, Lady and Dorian will stay here until you return.'

'You can trust Trish with Yamato, Verge.' Dante persuaded. 'She protected the Amulet successfully all this time.'

'Fine. But you talked me into this and if something happens to my sword…'

'You can cut me all you want,' Dante suggested, chuckling. 'Where is it now?'

'In your car, at the back.'

'Good, Trish, you take it. And we can go have a look at the damned town then.'

'I still need a weapon,' reminded Vergil as they came into the lobby.

'Remind me who's that?' Dante pointed at Dorian.

'The demon that you decided to leave alive. By the way, why?'

'Unlike the others, he refused to rape me, so I gave him a chance. If he wants, he can stay here. He's not dangerous.'

'How do you know?' Vergil glanced at Dante with reproach.

'He saw that now we work together and if he betrays my interests, that means he betrays your interests as well. And you are the best scarecrow I have ever found, Verge. Thus he's absolutely harmless.'

Vergil laughed and made his way for the door, then stopped abruptly to look at four wry faces turned his way. 'What?'

'Did he just laugh?' asked Lady.

'He definitely did,' smirked Trish. 'Dante tends to do that to people. Make them laugh or kill him. I am surprised Vergil chose the first option, though.'

'I didn't just see that,' Dorian successfully retreated behind her.

'Let's go,' Dante snickered and went ahead of his brother, first making a stop at the bedroom in search of a shirt in favour of the old sweater. The only clean one left was white.

The devil hunter lit up the garage and with a 'Hello baby how have you been? All lonely without me?' he was all over the azure Jaguar.

Vergil took Yamato and carefully handed it over to Trish, who was beaming shamelessly: by chance the brothers wore practically the same shirts and jeans and for once looked like real twins, except for the hairdo.

'Be careful, Dante. And here is a little help,' she put three bottles of red wine at the back seat and held out a pack of notes. 'Here is the money for the hotel. Don't you dare go to Oberon at night.'

'Thanks, that's kinda… kind,' Dante took the bills.

'What exquisite wording. I expect you to return everything after the mission,' Trish folded her hands, watching the devil hunter get into the driver's seat. 'And **Vergil** drives. You have just woken up from being physically dead, I don't want you to count the mileposts with your head.'

'Uh,' a very irritated devil hunter let his brother take his beloved seat. 'Drive her with care, or I'll bite your head off.'

'Aren't you afraid of biting off more than you can chew on?' Vergil started the engine.

'Don't challenge me. Come on, take me away from this medusa.'

Trish opened the garage and waved them goodbye:

'You'll know what to do, when you get there, Dante. And I'll get your money for you. Have a sweet honeymoon, boys!'

'Shuddup, you vixen, and make sure I have some pizza when we are back! No olives!' Dante shouted back at her.

..............................................................................**

Vergil was not the one to drive slowly and Dante basked in the wind.

'Wow, wow, where are you driving?' he suddenly tuned to his brother.

'Out of the city in the direction of Oberon.'

'No, stop, didn't you tell me you needed a weapon?'

Vergil braked, practically making Dante hit his face on the dashboard.

'Asshole!' the devil hunter barked at him, rubbing his nose.

'So, where do we go, then? I expect a decent sword.'

'Remember .45 Art Works?'

'I think I do. A former gunsmith's place?' Vergil was surprised. 'I will not use a gun. It is unworthy of a true warrior to use firearms.'

'Thanks for the compliment, you supercilious skunk,' Dante pouted, offended.

'Watch your mouth, you chatterbox, or I might cut off that sharp tongue of yours,' smirked Vergil.

'Whatever, just drive already, I feel stupid staying in the middle of the street, even if it's empty. It damages my reputation.'

'And I thought it was impossible to get it more breathed on,' Vergil's hands confident and relaxed on the wheel, the Jaguar let out a smug roar and started off to the workshop.

'I never thought you would be a fast driver,' Dante put his elbow on the door of the car and let the wind caress his face and play with his hair.

'You do know me quite well, but you did not know that? Well, this is a chance for you. I was getting a little bored, sitting in the kitchen the whole morning, listening to two witches going on about clothes… I even could not read the book on the portals between the worlds properly, as those two women were so enthusiastic and loud. So I think I am up for a little fun. How about you?'

'You know, _fun_ from your lips sounds intimidating,' Dante looked at his brother, puzzled by the mischievous glint in his eyes.

'Let's see what we have here. Transmission… what are the letters?' Vergil curiously looked at the letters, in which SS obviously stood for a low gear.

'Don't you even scratch my car! It is my fucking treasure! You are now driving SS – Snail's Speed, and don't go any fas-ter!' Dante warned, but his brother changed to S and stepped on the gas. While Dante was explaining, the car rushed towards the downtown, going faster and faster. 'This is Slow, M stands for Mild, W – for Wild…'

'What's next?' making a rough turn at about 65 miles per hour asked Vergil, smoothing his hair back with his free hand and holding the wheel tight with the other.

'Stop this, you crazy speed freak! 'Dante clutched at the door. 'Don't go downtown! There are not many people today, but the police are there! And I am not best friends with them, more like fuck buddies – I make a ruckus and they fuck me up with fines!'

'Police? How intriguing!' smiled Vergil and the rubber of the wheels hissed on the asphalt of one of the main streets. True to the devil hunter's words, there were not many pedestrians and only a few cars.

'No, my new wheels!' whined the scarecrow of Dante that still managed to stay in the car. 'Verge, cut it out!'

'Hello, guys, breathe the dust,' Vergil dropped as he flew past the police station and was soon rewarded with the fanfares of the sirens. He set out gliding through the narrow streets, changing direction practically at every corner, quickly and flawlessly turning the steering wheel.

'No-o-o-o, just check it out! No, look what you've done!' Dante was grieving somewhere to the left, swinging from side to side because of the turns, which made him look like a banshee. 'They know it's my car and they will come to fine me-eeeeh!.. Careful with the turns you psycho-ow! Oh, you are making a cut-fucking-let out of me! 93 miles in the downtown? Easy-eeeeeh, man! You are going to kill us! Forget that, you are going to kill **me-eeeeeeeeh**! Ver-whoah-gil!'

Dante somehow managed to fix himself in the seat and looked at his brother. The older Sparda seemed to be having fun. He was flushed a little because of the wind and there was a soft smile on his lips. When he started yet another turn, his tongue darted out and he slightly bit it in concentration.

'You are driving at F – Fast,' commented Dante.

'It's about 110 miles. There is another one left, FF, what does that stand for?'

'Believe me when I say you want to try it on the highroad and not here – wait! This is the one-way dead end!' Dante hysterically observed as the wall was getting closer.

'Oops,' admitted Vergil, grabbed the wheel, braked and miraculously made the car turn around on the spot, the squeal of rubber in Dante's ears, white smoke from the friction flying by as the happy Jaguar started to gather speed, gliding back to where it came from – right to face the police cars.

'It so gives me a hard-on!' Dante breathed out.

'I did not hear that,' his brother was driving straight into the police.

'No you didn't. But how are you going to-?..'

'Hold on,' Vergil smiled and Dante clutched to the door for dear life, swearing he would never ever sit in the car without a safety-belt, which both of them were lacking.

The moment the police were a dozen meters away Vergil turned the wheel harshly and the Jaguar jerked and switched to two wheels, flying safely between two cars, then went back to horizontal, turning right in the process, and they were fleeing again.

'Holy shit I almost came!' shouted Dante, all exited.

'**That** I heard,' chuckled Vergil in mock-complaint. 'My ears will curl if you continue to think aloud.'

'Like I care! That was damn marvelous! Do that again!' Dante demanded, at full cock.

'No way I am doing this madness again anytime soon,' refused Vergil. The sirens were less loud, the Jaguar leaving them behind. Finally the car sneaked into a small back street and hid behind the jutting house.

'For all that is sacred,' Dante pushed the door open and wavered out of the Jaguar, his legs week. 'Hello solid ground!'

'Come on, the workshop was somewhere here, but I don't remember the exact place.'

'Heck!' Dante was catching his breath and trying to process that his brother was not always a cold collected statue. Well, he was, but it did not prevent him from sometimes doing strange exiting things, even with that stone expression on his face. Dante found Ebony and Ivory somewhere at the bottom of the car and put them in a small black case that seemed custom-made. 'Follow me, it's in the next street.'

The workshop was still there, numerous guns behind the window glass. The name was above, spelt in a line of well-styled letters: .45 Caliber Warks.

**.......................................****endo chap 08.......................................**

**Tears ** I am the luckies damn bitch to have you! You are an awesome-ly persistent reader which makes you the best!

**Next coming: ****Vergil is armed and dangerous. 1 Because he still drives. 2. Because he's on a hunt for Dante. In-Hotel Hunt time! Bwahahaha Chap 09 has Vergil and Dante together all the time and about 70% of the chap is them alone! Mmm**

Feedback greatly appreciated, guys! As always. I am a **review –whore! **So help me pull through!

See ya, lazy bastards,

Ethan


	9. A Personal Pea for the Princess

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**Babling**

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**Warnings: **UST, I guess. (Come on, everything with Verge and Dante in one room is UST!)

**BETAD by Tora-Katana)**

**BETAD OVER by Nimlinven**

'Dialogue'

"_Thoughts"_

**TEARS! You just fuckn' asked for it there! So yeah, I quoted you! *Not sorry in the least, but very happy***

**Thanx Thanx Thanx for the prompt!**

.......................................

**Chap 09**

**The personal Pea for the Princess**

'They left the name as it was,' Dante pointed at the _a_ in _.45 Caliber Warks_. 'Nell was one language expert.' The devil hunter opened the door, the bell rang, and the young girl in a plain purple dress and fingerless white gloves lifted her head to look at him from behind the counter. She brushed her short blonde hair back arrogantly, pursed her lips and sent a death glare at him.

Dante came in, habitually noticing there we no other people in that little room packed with guns of all ages. Except for the girl, this little space under the low ceiling was the kingdom of firearms: they were hung gracefully along the walls, lain with respect onto the stands, shielded inside the two cabinets at the back wall, hidden behind the glass. Two low tables to the left were their infirmary and revival altar, where the skilled fingers took them apart and fixed them back together. The lower part of the counter had bullets and chargers under the glass.

'Welcome,' the girl said openly unfriendly. 'You don't seem like a customer who has the money to afford decent equipment. So don't stare at the toys, just go away.'

'Baby, aren't you biased? Go tell the owner that Tony's here.'

'Tell Tony that Tony is here? Give me a break, boy, come up with a more entertaining pseudonym,' the girl snorted scornfully, but then looked up again as she sensed a strong presence in the workshop. She noticed another figure behind the new-comer. 'And who might you be, stranger?'

'None of your business,' Dante banged at the counter with his fist, 'now call To-…'

'Get out, you poor as a church mouse good-for-nothing sucker!-' the girl barked at the devil hunter.

'Who did you call-' roared Dante at her.

'Listen,' Vergil's voice sliced through the room, silencing both of them. 'Listen to what you are told, foolish girl. Now, go.'

'R-right away. We won't keep you waiting for long,' the girl ran out, glancing at the tall slender figure. 'Man, what a hotie prince.'

'Do you always have problems like this?' Vergil inquired calmly, looking at a shotgun on the wall.

'How come girls always fall for you? _Ulysses_ is more interesting to spend the time with, than you,' Dante turned his back to his brother and was looking at custom explosive bullets.

'You read _Ulysses_? You don't seem like a person who would do that.'

'Did not survive longer than three lines of that boredom. What is with girls these days? You are cold and spiteful, full of yourself and a smart-ass, and you only frown and glare! What do they see in you?'

Vergil was silent. He felt disappointed and… hurt. For the first time in ages he was interested in a person and the description he got was the ugly **that**. And from the person who even made him lose control over his desires… _"We had __**fun**__ a couple of minutes ago but no, you had to ruin everything!"_

'At least I have a brain and do not practice suicide,' uttered Vergil bitterly, his fists clenched tightly in his pockets.

'Why you arse!' Dante spat, losing his ability to speak, turning around abruptly to look at Vergil. He was faced only with his brother's back. _"And here I thought you might be not that bad. But you just had to touch a sore spot, didn't you?"_

'Hello, hello,' a young man with unruly raven-black hair, dressed in jeans, slippers and a leather apron walked into the room, a six-shooter in his hand. 'Who are you guys? And where is that bitch that said he was Tony?'

'Did you just call me a bitch, you little bastard? If Nell was here she would have taught you how to address the adults, boy,' Dante fumed. 'I got a dozen too many insults in this place today-…'

'Hands up, brat!' The owner of .45 Art Works pointed his revolver at Dante. Vergil traced a finger along the forged decorations of an old musket and did not even cast a glance where the two were arguing. The man went on: 'There is no way Tony would be so… Redgrave is one hell of a devil hunter!'

'Well I thank you sincerely for the compliment,' Dante bowed graciously the ancient way. 'Now, Tony Goldstein, be a man of business and go fetch Trish's guns and my old order. The one I asked you to make 'bout half a year ago, and don't even start telling me that it's not done because I don't take no as an answer today.'

'Oh My Lord!' the black-haired man gaped at Dante for a second, trying to comprehend that the man before him was Redgrave, then hurried inside the workshop. 'Rachel where is Snow? Ray!'

'Where is **what**? What are those two? Who the hell-…'

'Where is the Untouchable? Find it immediately! And be quiet and behave, we have very important guests.'

There was noise coming from inside the shop.

'I am not sure I still want to give it to you. After what you said,' admitted Dante grudgingly. 'I could give you Alastor, or Agni and Rudra, or even Nevan. But you do only katanas if I remember correctly. Apart from that, a promise is a promise, so I'll keep my word.'

Vergil looked at Dante, who was sitting now on a chair, the black case on the table beside him. The devil hunter did not look at him, apparently finding the worn-out carpet the most interesting thing on earth. Vergil felt uneasy for bringing up the devil hunter's weakness.

'He is Nell's son, you know,' Dante noted absently.

'Who is Nell?' asked Vergil to keep the conversation alive. He wanted to apologize, but he was not going to.

'She was a gunsmith who made my guns. One hell of an old woman, but she could juice up a squirt gun to be able to take out an elephant.'

'I told you already, I will not use a gun. Is that too complicated for you to get into that stupid head of yours? I **only** need a sword.' Vergil turned to glare at Dante to emphasize the point._ "I wrecked the conversation again. Damn."_

'You will be having both,' Dante simply stated, not bothering to be offended anymore. 'Tony is a blacksmith, he can make marvellous swords.'

'Here,' the owner of .45 Caliber Works came back, a long package in his hands. The object was wrapped in raw cloth and tied by leather straps. Dante stood up lazily, took the package and put it lovingly on the counter, tearing off the wrapping.

'It's the Untouchable!' shouted Rachel from the door. 'Only a demon can handle that one, don't touch it!'

Dante smiled – and the cloth fell down, leaving a thin sheathed katana in the devil hunter's hands, all pure snow-white: the leather plaited around the handle, the cords, the sheath itself.

The girl at the door rolled her eyes and folded her arms angrily, the owner of the shop snickered. Both of them observed silently as Dante was checking out the katana.

'The perfect white sword, hiding…' Dante drew the blade out of its confinement and the pitch black flash cut the air with a smooth swoosh. 'Hiding the perfectly black blade. Here, have a taste, it's very light,' the devil hunter handed the sword to his brother. 'This is the Snow, Yuki. It will be yours.'

As soon as Vergil's fingers snaked around the handle, power struck him like a bolt. Dante smirked and leaned onto the counter.

'Feel it? I melted down a couple of old demon artifacts for it. They were a thousand years old, so I hoped the sword would be a decent one. Seems like I was right.'

'You could have given it a less petty name,' Vergil complained, but his eyes were fixed on the blackness of the blade, Snow following his body like it was already a part of it, as his hands were getting accustomed to the katana.

'Don't misunderstand, Snow is just an endearing petname. The sword's name is the White Gloom.'

Meanwhile Tony Goldstein took a case from an old locker behind the counter and placed it near the one brought by the devil hunter. The owner of the shop laughed, noticing how both black leather gun-cases were similar and had the same print in the corner, even after so many years. However, letting that demon inherit the legendary arms troubled Tony Goldstein.

'I see your, erm, companion is happy with Yuki,' he addressed Dante. 'But I thought you **slew** demons, not armed them.'

'I do slay demons, except for those who are my family.'

The owner shook his head in disapproval.

'Now, check my Ebony and Ivory, would ya,' Dante tried to change the topic and poked the case where his guns lay.

'I'll do that,' Rachel told the devil hunter despite being unhappy with him and took the case with Ebony and Ivory.

'Wow these are rather heavy!' she immediately exclaimed and left for the back premises.

'Be careful with them you little…' warned Dante.

'Excuse me my question,' said Tony, scrutinizing every move Vergil made with Snow in his hands, 'Is this… your brother?'

The black blade of Yuki sliced through the counter a hairbreadth away from the owner of 45. Caliber Works, leaving a thin but deep cut, slashing wood, glass and metal with the same ease. Vergil was looking at the owner of the shop, stunned. _"Is __**that**__ possible?"_

'We just share the same blood. That is the reason for the resemblance,' explained Dante, but he did not sound very confident.

'Oh.' Tony decided on letting that one pass, getting further from intimidatingly frozen Vergil. 'Will you look at Trish's guns? '

'Yeah. And they are not her guns anymore, here is the rightful heir. Verge, c'mere for a sec,' Dante called his brother. Reluctantly sheathing the white katana, Vergil walked up to Dante to find two guns on the counter – one silver, one black.

'Luce and Ombra,' introduced Date. 'These two babes were used by Sparda The Legendary Dark Knight. Since we got hold of them, they belonged to Trish. I figured, as the next Dark Knight, you might want to claim your heritage.'

'Father used this?' Vergil took the black gun, a comfortable weight in his hand. 'It reminds me…'

'Yeah, you shot only once, in a fight against Arkham.'

'How did you-?..'

'Your brother told me. Forget it, have a look at the guns.'

Vergil gave Yuki back to the devil hunter and took both silver right-hand Luce and the black left-hand Ombra.

'My own guns were modeled after these two,' admitted Dante with a portion of pride. 'Ombra has been modified for long-distance targeting, it's designed for accuracy. Luce is custom built for rapid firing."

'Using guns is unworthy of a true warrior…'

'Cut that crap already, they were your father's!'

'… but I suppose there might be exceptions. I do not excel at shooting, though.'

'Of course you do, you are the son of Sparda! So grab the guns, take the sword and we'll be leaving as soon as that brat is done with my equipment.'

'You can practice if you want, while you wait,' Tony offered and showed the Sparda twins a metal target on the wall. 'Use if you feel like it.'

'Cool! What are you waiting for, Vergil? It's show time! Or are you afraid of missing? Don't worry I'll tell you how not to miss even once,' Dante patted his brother's shoulder. 'Think of something you hate the most – and shoot.'

'Is **that** your advice?' Vergil looked at the devil hunter with disbelief.

'Just try it. Don't aim, don't think.'

'Fine,' the Dark Knight relaxed, then lifted his hands abruptly, holding the guns firmly, crossing the firearms; his eyes were on the target.

"_I hate you, brother!" _He pulled the trigger, two bullets bolted out and smashed the metal of the target right next to the black circle in the center.

'Almost bullseye,' Tony sounded amused.

'I missed,' Vergil told Dante, a note of reproach in his voice. 'How do you explain that? And don't even start mentioning my poor skills.'

'Nope, skills have nothing to do with this. The reason is, you don't really hate whatever you thought of. So you couldn't fire properly. The drawback of this trick is to be honest to yourself. Absolutely honest.'

Dante took Luce and turned. His back to the target, he easily swayed his hand towards it without looking and shot.

"_I want it to disappear. Vergil's hate towards me."_

The bullet hit the center and with a crack of red lightning it wrecked the target into a useless metal mess.

'Oh. My. I'll keep that as a souvenir,' Tony Goldstein muttered.

'See?' said Dante, reloading Luce.

'Done!' Rachel returned and handed Ebony and Ivory to Dante.

'Add two pairs of holsters for us. So, thanks for keeping up the good work, Tony. You are just as needed as the old witch Nell was, remember that.'

'You are welcome as long as you pay the bills,' Tony opened the door for the devil hunter.

'I'll contact you the usual way, by mail. By the way, name's Dante. '

The twins walked out of the workshop.

'I like .45 Caliber Works. Maybe he could marry a tailor, and the place would be priceless,' Dante voiced his thoughts.

'Dante!' Tony called from the doorstep. 'How have you been?'

Vergil was putting the new weapons into the boot that was already full of strange packages. He was busy and muttering something under his breath.

'You better off not knowing, Tony! ' Dante laughed and went back to talk to the owner of the workshop some more. 'But holy Schnitzel!' He whispered, 'My brother's a reckless – and thank gods so far a wreck-less - driver which makes him all the more badass, but not as badass as me… – Wait! Verge!' shouted the devil hunter as he noticed that Vergil was already in the driver's seat, and the Jaguar was slowly moving away from the .45 Caliber Works. 'Be gentle with my baby! Whai- Did you just leave me behind? Jackass! Just don't scratch the car! Uh, wait, you smartass!' Dante waved a good-buy at Tony and dashed for the Jaguar. 'Gimme my baby back, you dastardy asshole!'

Tony observed as an angry Dante jumped into the moving car over the door.

'So they **are** twins,' the owner of the workshop smiled. As his apprentice came out to call him back he couldn't but tell her: 'Rachel, these are the two men who save the world and make up our monthly income. '

'I like the serious one better,' the girl in the purple dress noted and took him by the elbow.

'Dante is not a simpleton you think he is, Ray. But let us see. I bet they are going to Oberon,' Tony was still looking at the road, even as the car had already left.

'Wasn't it wiped clean by demons today?'

'It was. But those devils don't care. They'll work it out.'

'Why are you so sure?' the girl tugged the owner of the .45 Caliber Works back into the workshop.

'Oh, because it is Tony Redgrave we are talking about here, for fuck's sake! They'll smash the place.'

..............................................................................**

Vergil was driving out of the city, a fuming Dante by his side.

'You could have waited!'

'Don't be noisy.'

'Whatever.'

'Why do you insist that I use firearms?' Vergil looked at the devil hunter and an involuntary smile sneaked onto his lips.

Dante was sprawled on the seat, right elbow on the door of the car, his hand supporting his head, fingers in his white locks. The wind was combing Dante's hair back and stubbornly tearing the shirt off him, white cotton letting the bare skin be seen.

'It's better not to cut bridges, monuments and real estate in the human world. Knowing you, you won't hesitate to cut anything in your way, but among humans that will put your purse on a diet. And a hard one, believe me. Hm, I should let you drive more,' sighed the devil hunter, pleased by the speed.

'Oh, you still did not tell me about the FF gear.'

'Wait until we are out of the city and no cops around, then you can go for it, 'kay?'

'Deal,' Vergil made another turn as the car was rushing further from the downtown.

..............................................................................**

'Show me what you got,' whispered Vergil hotly to the Jaguar as soon as he was on the highway, a lone road through the deserted never-ending sandfield, bordered only at the horizon by the low edging of the faraway mountains.

The sun was already low, painting the world the tender dark golden colour, but the air was still hot since midday, melting down the light ochreous sky as well as Dante, who was now a pathetic puddle on his seat. Every part of the car was still heated up and only the wind was of some help, which gave the devil hunter an idea.

Dante cracked an eye open, noticed his brother's elegant fingers holding the gear and immediately went searching for something in the glove box. He fished out a pair of glacier glasses with one solid orange lens and put them on.

'FF stands for Fucking Fast, Verge. It's show time!'

Vergil pressed the gas into the bottom of the car and the hand of the speedometer slowly but steadily reached 120 then 140 miles.

'Right, Vergil, let me feel it,' shouted Dante through the wind. He was standing up, his hands clutching the frame of the windscreen. 'Make me feel that the mark 200 is not just a decoration!'

'Do you want to blow your brains out?' The older Sparda laughed.

'Not that **I** **have** anything to worry about, right?' answered Dante and bent forward.

'Uh, such a kick is wasted,' fretted Vergil, eyeing the devil hunter's ass. _"Or a grope for that matter."_

'Don't you dare,' threatened Dante half-heartedly. 'I had enough bullying from you already; you were never nice to me, that **is** the common truth.'

'Maybe I know rather well how to be civilized, however at the time you were not included into my _nice people_ list.'

'That freaking hurt,' Dante glanced at his brother and shut up, offended yet again that afternoon.

'Look, we live in different worlds, both literally and figuratively,' Vergil frowned, stepping on the gas angrily. 'It is often difficult for me to understand your way of thinking. Furthermore, I am not used to your lifestyle and… talk, even. And I still don't remember much about you, I often don't even understand what you are trying to tell me about.'

'What do you want to say, in short?'

'Sorry,' sighed Vergil.

Dante shuddered. He felt awkward and lost.

'The Vergil I know doesn't know that word.' He stated absently.

'Then pretend nothing happened.'

'Just drive,' Dante straightened up and spread his arms to the sides. 'Faster!'

'Your wish is my command,' the hand of the speedometer was at 180 already.

'This is the best feeling you can get, Verge. Nothing matters! It's awesome.'

The older Sparda looked at the devil hunter's endearingly happy face and couldn't help laughing quietly.

'Let's see how you will fall down at 200,' Vergil was sure that in a couple of minutes he himself will be all worked-up.

'Hah, if there is a force to put me down, that sure is you, Verge. Now, rock me to Heaven and back!' Shouted Dante and laughed, too. Laughing with Vergil was intoxicating. It was drowning him in the sweet delusion that everything was alright, it made the hurt of the insults fade away. It was their laughter that made him unnaturally happy and silly. 'Bring it on, man!'

'You said it,' warned Vergil and pushed the Jaguar to 200. _"If he wasn't a demon he would die of suffocation. But he is a demon… and it is so much fun."_

Dante was silent, as the strong wind was lashing at his face and chest.

"_But he is still beaming like a crazy idiot that he is."_

In about twenty minutes the devil hunter got tired and fell down onto the seat, taking the glasses off.

'Whoooh, that was fan-fucking-tastic!' Dante was beaming widely, pure happiness on his face.

'I bet it was,' Vergil couldn't help a small chuckle.

'How long before we are in Oberon?'

'A couple of hours if we don't slow down.'

'This baby has full tank of gasoline, so don't slow down if you don't feel like it.'

'You seem tired, Dante. I suggest you rest while you can.'

'Hm, a nice idea.'

'What, no complaining about getting enough rest during the night and not wasting time now?' Vergil was surprised.

'No. First, I do know what happens to my body after death. It's not the first time, and I **do **need rest, I have to admit. Second, I am going to Oberon tonight, not tomorrow. So I might as well sleep now, it's going to be a long night.'

'But Trish warned you it's dangerous.'

'Who cares about little things like that? We'll stop at the hotel, have dinner and go straight to that town! I am no fool to pass such a juicy invitation, and I would be a real sucker if I lost this rare opportunity to make some easy money because someone was there before me.'

'Impatient as ever.'

'Shut up and drive,' Dante jumped to the back of the car and lay down, his head on the seat and his All Stars on the door of the Jaguar, a red distraction in the corner of Vergil's vision.

'Wake me when you find a cheap hotel near Oberon.'

'Go to sleep already you crazy pain in the ass.'

'So… you decided that I am troublesome, in the end,' Dante sounded somehow desperate.

'You are trouble in the flesh, true,' Vergil looked in the rear-view mirror. The devil hunter had his hands behind his head and the older Sparda could see his elbows and a mop of white hair, shadowing Dante's face. _"I could take revenge for what he told me in .45 Caliber Works. But… honestly, I have no desire whatsoever to ruin his good mood now."_ 'But you are just too useful to waste you.'

'I told you I am broken already. What fun do you get playing with me?'

'Maybe I consider it fun to mend the broken you, who knows. Night.'

'Night,' whispered Dante, confused, but somehow relieved.

Vergil was driving to Oberon and he thought that maybe he could escape just like that: driving an azure Jaguar at 200 miles per hour wherever the wind took him, with a strong strange stupid devil hunter Dante as his companion. Drive just like that into the sunset.

Why in the world he needed anything else? Obviously, he didn't.

..............................................................................**

'Hey,' a soft voice called.

When Dante did not wake up, Vergil sat on the bed beside the devil hunter and carefully pulled Dante's unruly hair back, revealing his calm sleeping face. Vergil's cautious fingers caressed his cheek, stroking lightly.

'Wake up,' the older Sparda persuaded.

The rain was hitting the huge stained-glass windows that painted lilies, the thick streams snaking down. It was rather dark in the small room, but Vergil did not want to put the light on, and the small lamp on the table remained untouched. They were alone in this small hotel room: a chair for their clothes, a table for their food, a bed for their rest. Nothing more, except for the desired privacy.

'Dante, come on, you will be cold if you stay like that. And I brought dinner.'

'Wha…' murmured the devil hunter under his touch, and Vergil leaned down to have a better look at his face. Dante was lying on the side under him, a pillow in a firm grip.

'Dante,' the soft fingers were on his cheek and he opened his eyes. Everything blue and violet with light specks dancing everywhere, the dim light coming from the window. Vergil was very close, a strange expression of peace on his face.

'Morning, sleepyhead, have some dinner.' Vergil pulled back.

'How long was I asleep?' Dante sat up, rubbing his shoulder. He was on the bed, the window was to the right and to the left were two doors, one of which was probably leading the bathroom, the other – to the corridor. There was an empty old chair standing between the doors. Not much.

Vergil was sitting next to him, looking at him expectantly. On the table next to the bed was a tray with beef and potatoes and a bottle of red wine that they took from Devil Never Cry.

'It's eight p.m. already, so you are not going to Oberon tonight, it's too late.'

'You jerk, you could have waken me up!' Dante said, deeply disappointed.

'I don't want you to be killed by some low-level demons because you just rushed in without thinking. Now, eat,' Vergil cut any further complaints. He picked up the plate and held it out for the devil hunter.

Dante took the plate and started to eat. True, he was hungry, and the beef was tasty. He looked how his brother poured two glasses of wine and offered him one. The devil hunter took the glass and had a taste of the crimson liquid.

'Tis good.'

Vergil just nodded.

'What do we do, then? I see you got us a room, it's raining outside-… where is my Jaguar? Did you leave my baby under that downpour?' Dante jerked up horrified by the thought.

'No, it's in the garage,' said Vergil in a dismissive manner.

'Wooh, scared me. Then, it's late and it's raining. I have to admit that I am really going nowhere. So what?'

'Just rest here. We sleep the night and start at dawn tomorrow. It's simple,' Vergil watched the devil hunter very motherly-like.

'Okay,' Dante finished the meal, threw the plate to the tray and lay back down, slowly rocking the glass with the wine. He yawned.

'Time to go to sleep, then,' stated Vergil and went around the bed to sit at the opposite side.

'What, only one bed?' mock-complained Dante.

'This is the town to which the population of Oberon moved within the last three days. They take money not for space, but for beds,' explained Vergil, sitting motionless, savouring the feel of calm.

'I see.'

Vergil slowly started unbuttoning his shirt. _"It's not even __**my**__ shirt. Everything I have in this world belongs in reality to this man. I should thank him, he deserved that much…"_ The cloth slid from Vergil's shoulders and fell to the bed.

Dante's gaze slipped to his brother's back, the skin and muscles still new, but a captivating play of curves. Perfect, except for five dark lines marring the skin from the waistline up to the shoulder blade.

'Verge, who hurt you? Who was that son of a bitch?' Dante put the empty glass on a nightstand and faced his brother, eyes glaring, a glow of anger inside him rising to become a fire.

'Why, it was you,' laughed Vergil with ease.

'What?' Dante jumped up and strode up to his brother to look at his face, as if it could give him an explanation.

'Today in the morning,' Vergil threw the shirt to the chair and stood up in front of the devil hunter. 'You scratched me when you came.'

'**What?**' Dante's eyes were wide and his mind was refusing to process the thought.

'I don't mind,' his brother's long arms snaked around his waist to embrace him, pulling him close until their stomachs touched. 'You can do that all you want.'

'Verge, is it true? What happened in the morning?'

'It is, I guess. What did you think it was?' Vergil was smiling. The man who was immensely strong, who faced death on daily basis, who managed to make Trish a human, who was the Dark Knight's last resort and the most reliable person – now he was a confused child in Vergil's hands and the feeling of control over the devil hunter was exquisite and exciting.

'I thought it was a dream,' confessed Dante, still in awe. 'We shouldn't have done that. We are family and both men, that's just… It's all wrong…'

'It **is not**,' Vergil squeezed him in his arms. 'You know, when I was imprisoned, they raped me more times a day than I could count. So it was either die or learn to take it. At first I was proud and insulted them, I protested. Then, later I realized I did not know if I could ever leave that cell. Thus I had to stay conscious. There was at least one thought that had to stay in my mind – that they were not to open the gates. So I did everything they asked me to, apart from opening the gate. With time I learned to ignore whatever happened to my body, but that was dulling my conscience. There was a possibility of me going insane. So there was only one way for me to keep my mind clear. I had to learn to find pleasure in what they did.' Vergil looked Dante in the eye, and the light blue crystal pain scared the devil hunter. 'I **found** pleasure in what they did. I **screamed** in pleasure and **came** because of it. Since then, I don't care much who it is I do it with – a woman or a man, a stranger or a relative, it doesn't matter to me. But now that I am free from this small hell, I only wanted to be with someone whom I could trust. **And you dare tell me that this is wrong? After I decided that it is you who is worthy of my unconditional trust?**'

'Verge,' whispered Dante hoarsely, and his trembling hands were in his brother's locks, holding his head carefully but firmly, so that the devil hunter could look at him. 'I am sorry. Really, really sorry,' tears were welling in his eyes, blue sparks of raw emotion. 'I should have…' Dante pushed his brother close with his one arm, holding him tightly, his other hand tilting Vergil's head to the side.

'I should have stayed with you and protected you,' Dante whispered into the crook of his brother's neck and Vergil shuddered in shock as a hot drop fell on his cold bare shoulder. Then another one, and they kept on falling down.

'Who are you to me, Dante?' the former Dark Knight asked, shaken. 'I do not remember, so tell me. Please.'

'I am the one who promised to take care of you, but the one whom you will never want to have at your side. Listen, Verge, I know that things will be different when everything is over but I want to tell you this. After all, I might not get a chance like this ever.

I promised to protect you – however it is impossible when you are on this crusade for power. I won't ask you why you need it. I just wish I could understand and help you. But I know you don't want me and never will.

When you remember everything… if you choose to blame something on me and hate me, it's alright. I just want you to know that as I promised, I will be there for you. No matter what you choose – to hate me or to trust me.'

For once, Vergil did not know what to do or say.

'You are scary,' he said, stroking the devil hunter's head.

'Why?' Dante let out a strangled chuckle.

'You are ridiculously strong.'

'I don't see it this way. Rather, I say all those big things and look how I end up – you are here, comforting me.'

'Oh, I do not understand why you had to tell me everything like that, but now that I heard you out, I definitely feel like comforting you. In more ways than you can imagine.'

'Hey, cut me some slack, I am not some damsel in distress for you to rescue,' Dante moved away from his brother, hiding his face behind his bangs unsuccessfully.

'Then run to the bathroom, mademoiselle, and put yourself into a more respectable condition. I'll wait for you here.'

'Stop giving me orders, smartass,' Dante snorted and stormed into the bathroom.

Vergil fell back onto the bed. _"That was some talk…"_

There was the sound of running water. The older Sparda kicked the shoes off, crawled out of his jeans, sent them to accompany the shirt on the chair and threw the blanket over himself. When Dante came out of the bathroom, his brother was lying with the bottle in his hand, slowly sipping wine right out of it.

The devil hunter's hair was wet and it was all thrown back, making him look very much like Vergil's blood relative.

'You know, I met a lot of demons, who claimed to be a part of my family, but so far you are the first one whom I believe.'

'Shut it,' groaned Dante, getting rid of his clothes carelessly and leaving them on the floor, too lazy to bother.

'Hm,' noted Vergil when the devil hunter sat on the bed to finish taking off his jeans. Dante became instantly aware of his nudeness and hurried to crawl under the blanket, sinking into the pillow._ "Thank god there is enough space and two pillows…"_

'Here, want some wine?' Asked Vergil.

'No, thanks. I just want to fall asleep already,' Dante was lying with his back to him.

'Alright.'

Vergil put the bottle to the floor, pushed the blanket over his bare shoulders and closed his eyes, trying to fall asleep as well.

Several minutes passed, Dante has finally calmed down, but the memories of the morning incident were hunting him.

'I've been thinking,' Vergil pondered aloud. 'Why did you assume that it was a dream? True, I left earlier, because I thought it might be inconvenient if a human like Lady found us together, entangled in the blanket and reeking of sex…'

'It wasn't sex!' Dante bolted up.

'Technically it wasn't.'

'Stop messing with my head, Vergil. This madness is already too much for me, okay? I thought it was a dream because I am kinda used to the thought that I am a monster.'

'That's ridiculous… we are just not human…'

'Right, but when every human around keeps telling you that, I bet you start to wonder.'

'Dante, calm down,' Vergil squeezed his shoulder.

'Don't touch me!' the devil hunter jerked away and buried himself in the blanket leaving only the white-haired head for Vergil to stare at.

'If you say it like that, then we both are monsters and the idiotic humans can go to Hell.'

'Verge,' Dante turned to his brother abruptly. 'I did not mean to shout at you.'

The voice that called him 'Verge' sounded painfully familiar. It had the sharp edge that reminded Vergil of old times when he had fencing training with his brother. This voice brought up the memories of sunny days, when they would lie in the grass, too exhausted to move. Then cautious fingers would try to take his hand, but he would get angry and say it was childish, he would always smile though. He knew that longing to feel loved and needed. It drove him crazy, too.

Cautious fingers touched his hand lightly, and Vergil flinched. The fingers were strong. They squeezed and a low tender voice came:

'I know you have been through a lot, too. Sorry, it's just me being selfish. So, did you want something?'

They lay opposite each other, a breath separating their bodies, looking into each other's eyes, seeing the same icy abyss. Vergil intertwined their fingers.

'You are crazy,' he chuckled. 'Are you offering?'

'Huh, offering, my ass!'

'What a surprise, are you saying you are offer-…'

'Don't even think of finishing that sentence,' Dante jerked the older twin's hand roughly. He remembered something. 'I was actually planning on going out with Nevan.'

'With the redhead?' Vergil knew that something small that seemed to be still human in his heart gave away and started to freeze in the blizzard of his life.

'She asked me out. And, well, she is a demon and doesn't care for my lifestyle or my past.'

'I bet she already decided you are hers. She talked about you as if you were her fiancé already.' Vergil informed the devil hunter angrily.

'You kidding? No way!'

'But you haven't decided yet, so it means I have a chance, right?'

'What?-'

Vergil took his other hand from under the pillow and sneaked it under Dante to pull him close until their noses were touching and bodies connected from shoulder to hip.

"_Priceless,"_ smirked the older Sparda, seeing the devil hunter's confused expression, eyes wide open in disbelief as Vergil's half-erect sex brushed against Dante's soft member. They stayed pressed together.

'Something the matter, Princess?'

'Nothing except for a certain pea in my bed,' frowned Dante in mock anger.

'And I hope you know that the only way to get rid of me is to give me what I want, right?' a predatory smile twisted Vergil's lips.

'Uh, what did I get myself into?' asked Dante rhetorically, rolling up his eyes.

The next thing Vergil knew the devil hunter was sitting on him, straddling his hips, stark naked, the blanket falling down.

'But you should also know,' panted Dante out, his palm lying flat against Vergil's stomach, the devil hunter lowering dangerously, words spilling from his lips in a painfully slow seducing whisper: 'that if I do something, I do it. Smoking. Hot.'

**.......................................****endo chap 09.......................................**

I now feel like… Total EVIL.

**sexy blue eyed devils, **thanx for staying with me (and with the story)! (darn I now realize you stole the name I was trying to save for myself ~_^)

**Xiang-shui, **welcome to the party! Nice to see new people interested in my scribblings *^_^* (omg, Japan rules!)

**ladysubaru83, **just** !m! ^__^ !m! **

**Sanguinary Tears, **a monument to your eternal glory is almost finished in my back yard! *kills mundus as a sacred sacrifice to Tears*

**Tora-Katana,** yeah, that small idol next to your Great Golden temple is Tears' sacred monument. Hope you don't mind =P *mundus is already dead, so kills Arkham and Saviour (the damn statue is big, so brings in by pieces) as a sacred sacrifice to Tora*

**Next coming: ****Oh, you perverted readers have the whole damn night to imagine that! Make sure not to nosebleed too much! Mwahaha. Dante tricks Vergil and leaves for… Hell!**

Don't be lazy, lazy bastards, drop me a line!~

Tell me to finish that up! =P

See ya!


	10. Action Sexion

.......................................

**Babling**

.......................................

**Warnings: **some nc-17 yaoi content!

**BETAD by To****ra-Katana.**

**BETAD OVER by Nimlinven.**

Uh, I wanted to add more, but…. This is just what will be here in this chap.

'Dialogue'

"_Thoughts"_

.......................................

**Chap 10**

**Action Sexion**

'Now, tell me what you want,' Dante purred to Vergil, his fingers drawing an intricate pattern on his brother's flat stomach. _"I am as good as dead. So very dead," _the devil hunter thought nervously.

It was suddenly very hot in the room, a slender body was all over him, and Vergil could not but shiver at the silky low voice that enveloped him.

'I want you for myself,' whispered Vergil in the devil hunter's ear possessively.

'Before that there is one thing I need you to tell me,' Dante's eyes were very close, a fire shining from behind the lowered lashes. 'You alright with that, Vvvvergil?' At the _v_ white teeth slowly pressed at the thin lip, bit it, then disappeared into the dark cavern of that hot mouth, leaving a red mark.

'Whatever,' Vergil's hands glided up the devil hunter's legs and gripped his thighs, bruisingly hard. _"Hard. Hmm, he makes me so hard…"_

"_This is bad. I am in deep trouble. Abyss-deep trouble,"_ panicked Dante, but did not show that. Vergil was on fire under him, a prominent erection against his inner thigh. That mindless bothered demon was not something Dante wanted to have for a brother. _"Damn…But it might be the only chance to ask…"_

'Tell me something,' the devil hunter grabbed Vergil's chin to attract his attention. 'Look me in the eye and tell me, what do you think about your brother?'

'Brother…' Vergil frowned, he was jerked out of a blissful, lustful daze. _"He asked for the truth, so why not? I trust him. At least, for now I do."_ 'He is my most beloved friend and my bitterest rival, my confidant and my betrayer, my sustainer and my dependent, and – hmpf, - scariest of all, my equal. Why?'

'Oh. Wow. Impressive.' _"Shocked me there… He is dead serious, oh Hell. Is that really what he thinks of me? __**Equal?**__ How… All this time you made me think you hated me! All this time you made me think I was a worthless dirt in your way! __**A friend and a rival?**__ For fuck's sake…Why didn't you ever…"_ Dante felt humiliated like never before.

'You fucker you could have told me at least once!' the devil hunter's hands clutched at Vergil's shoulders as he shook his brother's body violently, leaving dark bruises. 'I almost killed myself more times than you can count, and you couldn't tell me even once! **Once **would have been enough for a lifetime! It would have been enough for all eternity! I hate you, you self-centered asshole!'

Dante's fist smashed Vergil's cheekbone. The devil hunter tangled out of the bed and rushed for the nearest door, slamming it close behind him.

'Hate you!' a voice shouted from the bathroom. Vergil slowly sat up, rubbing his cheek. His head was still like lead and spinning.

'What in the world.' Vergil slowly mouthed the words, barely restraining his anger, speaking slowly as if calming himself down. 'Just **what in the world** was that, you little shit? You left me here in the middle of… Come out this very second. You bitch.' Vergil stood up gracefully, walked up to the bathroom door and hit it with the side of his fist. The wood cracked lamentably, complaining. 'Open.'

'Fuck off!' there was a loud sound of a punch and glass shattering.

'Open this very second!'

Dante was sitting on the edge of the bathtub, panting. His right hand was bleeding. The mirror was on the wall next to him, a web cracks and crimson stains, but the splintered face that looked at Dante from behind the shining surface was still the same as his brother's.

'Dante! Get out here!' Vergil was banging on the door.

Dante was cold and naked. He looked at himself. Ugly and loathsome. He reluctantly turned the water on and stuck his bleeding hand under a cold stream, the pinkish stains twirling, washed down the sink.

'Gimme some time,' a week voice said from behind the old wooden door and Vergil gave up. It did not seem like they could just go to bed and sleep peacefully after such an outburst. It was going to be a long night. As much as he appreciated being naked, he wasn't at home, so Vergil found his jeans and put them on.

A sudden thought made him stop mid-step. It scared him.

'Are you my brother's lover?' Vergil asked.

'**What?**' Dante lost balance and fell into the bathtub, hitting his elbow, hip and head painfully in the process. He was cold, both on the outside and on the inside.

'Why do you ask me a question about that person, when we were… Why do you care about him? He has nothing to do with anything, but it seems like you are really troubled by my relationship with him. I never told you anything on my own. It leaves only one option: he told you himself. It's not a matter he would discuss with a friend, which means you are not his friend. So – I ask you, are you his lover?'

'I am not gay and I am not your brother's lover,' Dante muttered, still in shock.

'Then – **what was this all the fuck about?**' shouted Vergil and the lamp from the nightstand smashed into the bathroom door, falling down in a mess. 'Why did you just run away?'

'Why? You have the insolence to ask **why**?' Dante roared angrily back. 'I will tell you, you selfish piece of shit! It was because of **you**! It is all **your** fault!' He hid his face in his hands. _"You wrenched my whole life!"_

'Me?' Vergil sat down on the bed, bewildered. 'What did I… I don't understand what's happening to you, Dante.'

'Shit, I should have told you when you just woke up…' whispered the devil hunter. 'I was foolish to hope this could ever work out. Things are just destined to be like this between us…'

"_I can't leave him like this, no matter what,"_ Vergil walked up the door, kicking away the broken lamp.

'Open,' he requested in a confident voice. There was no reply. 'Fine.'

Dante jerked up as the dark wooden door was hinged off, tearing the frame, and hit the floor, kicked flat against the white tiles.

'Dante,' Vergil walked in and sat onto the edge of the tub. 'Do you hate me?'

'Yes, I hate you,' Dante whispered, hiding his eyes and embracing his knees.

Words froze in Vergil's throat._ "Am I one too many here? Foolish… What did I do, pushing myself onto Dante all this time, when I don't even remember what our relationship was like?.. I was so foolish…"_

'Do you…' Vergil pushed himself to ask. 'Do you want to kill me?'

'Why?' Dante lowered his head to his knees and chuckled bitterly, closing his eyes. His voice was even and low, barely above whisper. 'I don't want to kill you, Vergil. I hate you because the only thing you give me is pain. You either hurt me intentionally or unintentionally… either way, the result is the same. And I hate it. I hate you because you never listen to me and you never notice me. I hate myself as well, for not being able to change anything. So, see, Verge, it is ironical. I hate both of us. But I don't want death for either of us.'

Vergil smiled inwardly to himself._ "I just can't bring myself to be angry anymore. What the Hell is wrong with this world."_

'Come on, idiot,' his brother's arms took Dante from the bathtub and Vergil carried him back to the room. 'Whatever it is, we'll work it out somehow.'

'Did you hit your head, man?' Dante wriggled, trying to get off his brother's hands. 'Put me down!'

'Here,' Vergil laughed and threw the devil hunter to the crumpled bed. 'Put on your jeans and get warm and comfortable in that nest of a blanket because tonight we-…'

'Sir! Sir!' someone was knocking at their door worriedly. 'I am from the staff here, is everything alright?'

'What do you want?' Vergil opened the door to the room.

Dante was very glad that he managed to throw the blanket over himself just in time.

'We received information that here…' the clerk noticed the absence of the bathroom door, the smashed lamp and the general mess in the room. 'Sir, I am afraid that the damage will have to be paid for,' tried to explain the young brown-haired boy. He looked embarrassed and somehow afraid, which Dante did not understand.

"_We don't have the money, I gave it all to pay for the room and for the dinner…" _Vergil frowned.

'No problem, dude!' Dante saluted the boy with a wide grin. 'Come back in a minute, I'll find my wallet.'

'All right, Sir,' the clerk closed the door and left the Sparda twins alone.

As soon as the lock clicked, Dante jerked up and started dressing faster that any soldier could ever learn to.

'Hurry! You don't want to spend the night in jail, do you?' he hissed to Vergil, trying to lace up his All Stars and falling from the bed.

'But you don't have any money!' hissed his brother back.

'Shut up and believe in me! Dress up quickly!'

In a couple of minutes they were disheveled but dressed and Dante had two blankets in his hand. Vergil could already hear steps in the corridor.

'He's coming, what are you going to do, shithead?'

'Ready?' asked Dante, smirking and going to the door.

'For what-?'

The devil hunter turned around and dashed across the room; his hand snaked around Vergil's waist and together they smashed right into the white lilies of the stained-glass. Several seconds of falling in the rain of shining droplets and splinters and Dante struck the asphalt, wincing at the impact on his legs, Vergil in utter shock and complete humiliation – a boneless package on the devil hunter's shoulder.

'Idiot!' The Dark Knight got to his feet and jerked away from Dante as if from a toxic waste. He regained his composure, drew his white wet hair back in one swift motion of his hand and straightened his shirt. 'What now?'

'Isn't it obvious?' Dante chuckled out, a total mess of a devil hunter under the heavy rain. 'Find my Jaguar and run for good!'

'Damn,' Vergil started out for the garage, water pouring on him and caressing his face with cold fingers. _"And here was I thinking of having a nice evening at a hotel, in a warm luxurious bed. Not that I am complaining but I just wanted to have a rest, after months of torture. But he just has a talent for ruining my plans doesn't he?"_

They flew into a shabby garage, Vergil got into the driver's seat and started the engine. Dante threw the towels into the boot and jumped into the seat pushing his body easily right over the door.

'Dante, it's your car, so make us a roof,' the Jaguar was hurrying out to the street.

'Uh, don't have one,' the devil hunter melted in his seat into a buffed up heap of evil malice.

'Are you fucking telling me that your car is a convertible without a hood?' Vergil screamed in disbelief, speeding out of the town.

'Hell yeah.'

'Oh Lord give me strength…'

'Oh Lord, give me enough luck to survive this madman driving under this downpour with the screwed eyesight of his! I myself can't frigging see anything!'

They drove under the heavy rain and in a couple of minutes everything was soaked, the two demons in the Jaguar not an exception. Dante gave up and brushed his hair back with his hand just like his brother, that way the water didn't fall from his locks into his eyes. Vergil in his turn gave up trying to evade the downpour, relaxed in his seat and drove leisurely, clothes clinging to his body unpleasantly.

"_Still… Locking himself in the bathroom, breaking the mirror. To set him off like that, I must have failed at some point. But I don't understand, what exactly was wrong. He said it's my fault. Did I say something unknowingly? Was it a careless slip of a word, an unwary caress? Why all of a sudden, wasn't it he himself who was suddenly on top of me, touching me and whispering into my ear? Did he change his mind, does it mean he decided I was no good in the end? That's just ridiculous. I must have offended him at some point, otherwise he wouldn't have ran out like that. But I can't think of anything. What the Hell was wrong?"_

'So,' Vergil glanced at the devil hunter then turned his glare back to the highroad leading to Oberon. 'Care to explain why you ran out? I don't like it when I don't understand the reason for accusations I receive.'

'What – did you think I was going to let you rape me?' Dante grumbled.

'I wasn't going to rape you, idiot!' Vergil felt the conversation was not going to be as smooth as he planned.

'Whatever! I am not into men and I was doing it all to make you answer that question, that's it. I don't have any other reason to let you do such disgusting stuff.'

'That's disgusting of you to use other's people trust and then throw it back at them with loathing! What exactly is your relationship with me and my brother, Dante? Tell me already, you not-into-men fucker!' Vergil was losing his temper. People holding back the information he needed irritated the Hell out of him. But even worse was being played, especially when sex was involved, it drove him wild with blinding rage.

Dante bolted up, grabbed the driver's seat and shouted, looking at his brother:

'**I am your fucking'-**'

"_What?! Spill it already, you scum! What?!"_

"_I am your fucking brother, you jerk! How can you not understand!"_

Vergil saw the desperation in Dante's icy eyes, then the flash of pain, that was a frequent guest in Dante's heart, it seemed, but then the devil hunter's eyes softened and he whispered, smiling:

'You are my most beloved friend and my bitterest rival, my confidant and my betrayer, my sustainer and my dependent, and scariest of all, my equal. Now, watch the road, Verge.' Dante flopped back into his seat and stared into the rainy darkness of the evening.

'Did you just quote me?' Vergil asked, his rage crumbled into light dust by the devil hunter's words.

'U-hu.'

'You are not telling me the truth anyway, right?'

'U-hu. Not telling.'

"_Then, my dear Dante, you leave me no choice."_

'But I wouldn't be so sure about you not being into men.'

'What?' Dante turned to Vergil immediately, in awe.

'Well, I noticed you also got exited at the hotel.'

'I- I had to make you believe me, didn't you say so yourself? The only way to get rid of you is to give you what you want. Or to make you think you are getting it. So I made sure you believed… I had to think of… Nevan and it helped.' Dante was stumbling over words and he was not sure he could make it through such a topic. _"Uh, in reality, I was kinda… exited… I mean, it's Vergil! He is always gorgeous and no one can withstand him…Am I finding excuses now?"_

'You did not mind what happened that morning.' Vergil's voice became steel-cold and dripping with rage. _"How dare you think of that lowlife bitch when __**I**__ was there! I am going to exorcise her out of your thoughts, once and for all. Don't you ever dare even look at her! When I want something, I always get it. And this time, I want __**you**__. And I'll get you. I swear."_ Vergil's fingers squeezed the wheel so hard that his knuckles turned white and the leather squeaked under his grip. 'You even admitted you could dream of that.'

'Shut up!' _"Fuck, how do you counter that? Damn, Vergil, why are you so bloody irritated?" _'I wasn't myself! I was right after death, so I did not understand what was going on!'

'No, Dante. You understood everything very well. You even presented me with that small hilarious confrontation.'

'Stop making fun of me! I am helping you and the only thing you do is either torture me or make me a laughing stock. Now again- whaaaa?'

"_It's just you, so difficult to get to. I am being serious, idiot!"_

Vergil braked suddenly and Dante hit the dashboard with his head. Before he could start bitching Vergil dragged him across the car until he was sitting in his brother's lap, straddling him. The devil hunter automatically set his hands against the driver's seat, trying to push away, but Vergil grabbed hold of his shirt front with his one hand while the other pushed Dante's head down, until they were face to face, both panting after the sudden movement. Their breath mingled as soon as it escaped their mouths, lips so close that they were almost touching.

'Listen, Dante,' whispered Vergil and the raindrops from his cheek and nose slid to the devil hunter's skin. Dante shivered both at the sensation and at the sound of his name and almost blushed, realizing shamefully that his brother's voice sliced through him and shot a wave of pleasure right to his groin.

'Listen,' continued Vergil, looking at the devil hunter intently. 'I understand that I owe you a lot. I would probably be dead if you didn't take me out of the hospital. You fed me, healed me and gave me a place under your roof.

I am just not used to be nice to people. They never gave me a chance to learn. So I am very awkward at thanking you, but I really appreciate everything you have done so far. And what scares me a little is that judging by your fidelity and kindness you wouldn't think twice before helping me anytime in the future.

Dante, I am not used to this. What I believed in – is that people like you do not exist. I learned not to trust anyone and not to let anyone into my heart. This is how I am. I truly am sorry if I hurt you unintentionally.'

'Okay, never mind,' snickered Dante and relaxed, his hands falling down on Vergil's shoulders. The devil hunter leaned in and their foreheads touched, wet hair of both demons falling down.

'Just like that?' asked Vergil, amazed.

'Just like that,' whispered Dante back. 'We are sitting in a car without a roof under a terrible rain this dark evening in the middle of a highway. Don't you think we should be on our way?'

'It's an old rarely-used highway. No cars here until the hot summer days,' retorted Vergil. His right hand cautiously lay on Dante's chest and moved lower along the wet fabric, until his fingers found a button. He pedantically undid it, removing the small obstacle out of his way.

The slender form before Vergil had white hair and a handsome face. It was clad in a pair of old jeans and a white shirt…

But that was not really what Vergil saw. The wet fabric became semitransparent and clung greedily to the trained body of the devil hunter like a light blue hazy frame. Where the shirt touched the skin, it showed the lines and curves of steel-hard muscles, knit together to form a flexible yet strong creature that was now peacefully calm in Vergil's embrace.

Forget the buttons. Two hands slid along Dante's sides, an erotically tender caress.

'Stop that, Verge!' his eyes flung open in shock. 'Why are you at it again? Didn't I tell you to cut that out?'

'Shut up. It's raining and nowhere for us to go. We need **heat**,' Vergil's hands completed the embrace at Dante's back and pushed the devil hunter close, so that their stomachs and chests touched.

'Sounds fishy,' Dante raised an eyebrow.

'It is supposed to,' Vergil tilted his head and sucked at the devil hunter's neck right below his ear, moist lips following the trails of the raindrops, sliding with ease on the wet skin.

'Ver-Vergil! Stop that!' complained Dante, gasping for air, trying to push away again.

'Not letting you go,' the whisper burnt his ear, hands tight around his waist. Vergil moved his hips once for emphasis, grinding against the devil hunter teasingly.

'Fuck!' Dante fisted his brother's hair in an attempt to hold onto something and threw his head back as the rough wet cloth of the jeans pushed against his length.

'Like that?' teased a low husky voice and Dante shivered. 'I guess, it's pure luck that if you like something you can't bring yourself to stop it, right, Dante?'

'You shitty manipulator…'

Vergil smiled and resumed his work of licking away the rain from the devil hunter's neck. When he met the collar of the shirt he just yanked it away, successfully tearing off several buttons and exposing a nice shoulder to the shower of water falling down from the sky and the kisses.

'I feel like I will never get enough of you,' murmured Vergil and groped the devil hunter's ass shamelessly, fingers touching inner thighs possessively, earning a 'Stop that!-' from the heavily panting Dante.

"_You drive me insane."_

Dante sat, his eyes closed, the rain beating his face and falling into his open mouth. Breathing was so difficult. Vergil was squeezing his ass and kissing his shoulder, but he did not care anymore, drowned in the strange feeling of being needed. The feeling he craved so much. Ever since… the green grass.

When Vergil wanted to switch from one shoulder to the other, Dante just turned his head into the opposite direction, allowing his brother the access to the already abused and reddening flesh.

"_I don't care anymore… Why and why you… whatever, just don't stop… Don't let go of me. How can you be doing all this? It's hard to believe, wouldn't you want to just forget what happened to you? But where did you get so good at it?"_ the pangs of jealousy were painful in his chest.

Vergil's hands grabbed Dante's legs and spread his thighs further. The devil hunter could feel his brother's erect sex against his balls and the lower part of his own hard member, even through the cloth.

Dante moaned and rocked his hips, pressing his body into everything that was Vergil.

"_Finally, giving in. I hate your sharp tongue and your idiotic brain! You should have agreed earlier, why did you have to refrain from __**this**__? This bliss…" _Vergil got hold of Dante's buttocks and set a steady rhythm, pushing the devil hunter against himself, faking what they could have really been doing. _"Why the hell, I never thought I would agree to just this little contact…We should be having sex now, not just grinding against each other like virgin teenagers…"_

Dante stopped and looked down at his brother's face and tugged the shirt off Vergil's shoulders, cutting off any thoughts the Dark Knight could have had. The wet cloth slid down, revealing Vergil's chest and flat stomach to the licks of water.

'I wish I could be the rain,' whispered Dante, drawing with raindrops on his brother's skin, letting his nails scratch from time to time, his tender hands on Vergil's front, the touch tool light to stand the tempting.

'You had me thinking you were never going to take an active part,' smirked Vergil and toppled the devil hunter down onto the steering-wheel.

'Hey!' Dante clutched at his brother's neck.

'Ever had sex in a cool car?'

'I am Not. Having. Sex. With you.' Warned Dante, eyes wide.

'Okay. No sex.' The smile that twisted Vergil's features and the glint in his darkened eyes promised some cunning plan.

'You know, the steering-wheel is not exactly my idea of a comfortable surface.'

'I had to pin you down in case you wanted to run,' Vergil was hovering over Dante with a foxy grin, still holding the devil hunter's ass firmly. 'You are not planning to, are you?'

'No. Now, let me back up.'

Vergil pulled the lean body up, so that they were sitting in the driver's seat again, and whispered smugly. 'Undo your jeans.'

'What for?' Dante was embarrassed and too caught up in the moment to be able to hide it.

'Just do it. My hands are full and I am pretty happy this way.'

'Uh.' Dante undid the button, pulled the zipper down and took his aching member out. 'Hell,' he gasped as the cold air and rain hit the sensitive flesh and made him shiver. The devil hunter bit his lip and let his head fall into the crook of his brother's neck.

Vergil tilted his head to look at the freed sex that was glistening with water and pre-cum, Dante's right hand holding it lightly. His other hand was embracing Vergil at the shoulders and supporting the devil hunter's shivering body.

'Stroke it,' tempted Vergil and a shiver shook Dante's body at his low voice.

"_Crazy fucker,"_ the devil hunter inhaled sharply, his suddenly dry lips parted, but the slender fingers obediently moved after his brother's command, playing with the hardness.

'Shit, get me out, too…' Vergil whispered, his hands went roaming over Dante's body impatiently, finally tearing the shirt off and throwing it away.

The devil hunter undid his brother's jeans and cold slick fingers took Vergil's rigid cock and freed it of its confinement. Their flesh connected, a velvety hot sensation ripped throaty moans from their lips.

'Dante,' Vergil almost pleaded, unable to stop gazing at their connected shafts. The devil hunter took both of them in his hand and pumped slowly.

'More,' Vergil was breathing through his mouth, every intake of air – a great accomplishment. 'Ah!' The speed of Dante's ministrations went up, both of the Sparda twins completely on fire.

'Ver – ah! I'm…' His brother's hands were gliding along Dante's body, outlining every curve with insatiable precision. They were massaging his shoulders, caressing his ribs, brushing his nipples teasingly and palming his chest, as if to imprint an eternal sign on him. The devil hunter was shaking, his uneven breath on Vergil's neck, his lips against Vergil's jaw line.

Every slide of Dante's hand brought their cocks together, skin to skin. Occasionally Dante was spreading the rain water over the heads, brushing them together, pushing them against each other, making both bodies of the Sparda twins shudder.

'Can't take it any more…' coughed Vergil out as Dante's fingers were handling him mercilessly. The dark tips of their cocks disappearing into those cold strong fingers, covering them with the mix of water and pre-cum. Vergil finally lost himself in pleasure and unconsciously quickly pushed Dante flat against himself, leaned in and bit hard where the neck met the shoulder, as the white locks tickled his cheek.

'Verge!' Dante cried out in pleasure and, as pain struck him suddenly, he let go of their hard members and threw his head back. Their cocks stayed trapped between their bodies and pushed too close against each other. The light ribbons of hot cum were smeared over their stomachs.

Dante pushed himself back, the sticky white threads connecting his body to his brother's.

'Hm,' smiled Vergil lazily, leaning against the back of the seat, and put his hand in the middle of the mess. He covered it in cum and spread the white pattern up Dante's body, painting up along his abs to Dante's chest. Vergil laughed out and dirtied one pert nipple with cum, then started circling around it with his fingers.

'What are you doing you pervert!' Dante cried out, slapping his brother's hands away.

'You are no fun,' pouted Vergil, pursing his lips.

'Better think of cleaning this mess!' Dante jerked the shirt from behind Vergil and started wiping their cum away.

'Clean me, too,' ordered Vergil and put his hands behind his head, presenting Dante with a rather seducing picture of his bare upper body.

'Hm,' noted the devil hunter and finished up with the cleaning. 'What now, smartass? It's still raining and we lost two shirts.'

'Forget the shirts. We are not cold anymore, are we? It was your fault anyway for…'

'Don't' even go there,' Dante pointed his finger at Vergil to emphasize his words. '**You** knocked the door down!'

'Well **you** didn't come out!'

'Shut up!'

'Shut up!'

They silently tugged themselves into their soaked jeans and looked at each other.

'Fine,' Vergil spread out his hands. 'Come here. Let's sleep.'

'Aren't we gonna catch a cold or something? Come on, I don't want to sleep half-naked under the rain!'

'Wait,' Vergil threw Dante off his lap and back to his seat and went searching for something in the boot. 'Here they are,' he came back with the blankets, and slipped elegantly back into the driver's seat. 'I don't know what you wanted with them, but they proved to be useful.'

Dante took his brother's invitation and sat back on his lap, this time his side to Vergil's chest, and waited patiently as Vergil covered him with two thick blankets.

'You are a demon just like myself. We'll be fine even if the rain doesn't stop for the next three days,' Vergil embraced Dante, pushing the devil hunter to rest his head on his brother's shoulder.

'If you say so,' Dante closed his eyes. 'But what about the car? We stopped in the middle of the highway and my Jaguar is right halfway across the centre strip.'

'Everything that is not a tram can find its way around.'

'Damn right,' Dante smiled and hugged his brother at the waist. It was warm.

In a couple of minutes they were asleep.

**.......................................****endo chap 10.......................................**

Yes, the only reason they got to it was Tears, my dear N1 reader) Thanx girl)))

**Incomplete Dani** Welcome-cookie! You saved me there! Hope I never disappoint you and I also hope you stay with me as a reader!

**laguna-moomba **Welcome-cookie! You seem like a serious girl =_= i am kinda afraid. Hope I don't mess up. Ever =P pure angst is too heavy, pure fluff is too pink, so I sincerely would like to present you something black-tenderly-leatherly. Yay!

**Tears**, a regular sacrifice is due! You are awesome at unintentional prompts, hope you don't mind a little exploitation)))) I would have sent you Vergil, but he is busy in the changing room with a certain devil hunter after the filming of the fic *but I think I will send you the unofficial video of what's going on there =P*

**Next coming: ****Everything that got delayed by the hot action in the car - Mwahaha. Dante tricks Vergil and leaves for… Hell!**

Inspire me with reviews, guys! I need ya!

See ya!

Ethan


	11. We are all mad here,p1:The Hellgate

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**Babling**

...

**Warnings:** madness ^_^

**Betad by Tora-Katana! ***kiss-kiss hug-hug*

**Betad over by Nimlinven almighty!** *bow-bow worship-worship*

'Dialogue'

"_Thoughts"_

**As to the madness part (voices of Vergil) it's the following:**

Vergil – [normal font]

_Mad Hatter - Anger and hate [italics]_

'Azazel' – ['font']

**TO alyssa:**

**ОМГ! воистину омг, вот уж чего не ожидала))) так уж вышло что я уже по англицки лучше шпарю чем по-русски так что мне на нем проще. спасибки за ревьюшку! All my awesome english was developed with great help of Tora-Katana who checked grammar stuff and Nimlinven who checked logics and storyline, so im indebted to them really. О боже как я глазела на монитор! *нервно сползла по клаве* Кстати я ищу переводчика на русский *WINK WINK* И хрен ты дочитаешь этот фик, он цука длинный) на 23 главе я отметила половину))) а вообще я в восторге что тебе нравиться, так редко кто из русскоговорящих может это переварить, в частности никто не понимает тонкого юмора и игр слов кроме native speaker-ов=( в общем велком, и регься давай на фф.нет чтоб я могла флудить тебе в пмку!**

все яойные вкусняшки впереди! дааа НЦа выруливает, давай дочитывай до конца а то меня некому пинать чтоб я дальше писала а мне леееееееееееееень =) Лав! =*

**Memories [bold]**

"**Queen of hearts"**-** ["font"]**

Hope you find your way through that dialogue. Eh.

**Monster guide. (all from dmc3)** If you are not lazy go google them. For lazy asses:

**Blood-goyles** – our old friends, blood birds that turn to stone if you shoot then and double in numbers if you cut them.

**Fallen – **also mentioned them before, angel-like demons with ugly masks on their stomachs and light lances.

**Sloths** – grey tall demons that teleport. From the bar, mission 3, remember?

**Abysses** – when Vergil gets to the demon world, endo game 3 he meets those. Tall with scythes, dissolve into blood. You meet then in Hell of DMC3, too.

**Blitz – **the only monster I took from DMC4. lightning-fast monster that attacks with electricity. If I remember correctly.))

...

**Chap 11**

**We are all mad here**

**Part 01. / The Hellgate**

The rain stopped. He could feel it even before he was fully awake. Vergil was still embracing him.

'Thank you,' Dante sat up and carefully kissed his sleeping brother on the cheek. The sky cleared up after the rain and the silhouette of Oberon was already very close. The devil hunter threw the wet blankets to the back of the car, pushed Vergil to the empty front seat and started the engine.

'Thanks,' the azure Jaguar was on its way to the damned town, the only car on the old damn highway, flying straight ahead in the salute of the rainwater spray.

'For letting me into this sweet lie, even for such a short time. It will all end here, did you know? You probably didn't.' Dante straightened up and let the wind caress his face. His gaze travelled above the abandoned houses of Oberon to where the grey stone monolith of a Hellgate towered, golden inscriptions glowing, the white gash in the center shining dangerously, black splashes of demons scurrying about.

'Once everything is over today, I will tell you. I am sure that you will guess as soon as you see me wield a sword… but if you don't, I'll tell you. It has been really nice to have you polite and everything. I mean, apart from those times when you kept hitting on me. Come on, man! There is no way you switched to the gay party. I should probably talk to Nevan about converting you back.

But, you know, there was one reason why I could not stop you. And it was not because I liked it. Nope, everything is much more simple. The reason is you. When I give in, there is a small smile that lights up your face, softens your features and you are not looking so stern and cold anymore. You stop frowning, your eyes become darker, a warm sky-blue. You look happy. Just like when we were kids.

Let's go, Vergil. Life never gives us time, right? It's time to take care of the job.'

...

Vergil bolted up at the sudden shots and groped for a weapon. The Jaguar was slowly driving through the abandoned streets of Oberon, old wooden houses half burnt down. Dante was in the driver's seat, right foot was on the steering-wheel as he was busy killing the Hells, those lower demons. He was shooting both guns non-stop as the tall Sloths teleported to the car, right to the windscreen or to the back seat. Crammed with bullets, their grey bodies dissipated into sand and blood. Scythes burning, a small army of Abysses was flowing through the houses, liquidating to avoid Dante's fire, tricking, bringing the flames to the old wooden constructions.

'Morning, bro!'

"_Shit! I slipped! Do something stupid!"_

Dante quickly pulled the trigger and dark blood rushed upon Vergil's shoulder as the Abyss moaned and vanished.

'Damn,' Vergil wiped it away, irritated, and snatched Yuki, but Dante hit the handle with his foot to push the sword back into the sheath.

'No Devil Arms destruction here!' warned the devil hunter and nodded at the holsters with the two guns which once belonged to the Legendary Dark Knight.

'Fine,' dropped the dissatisfied Vergil and fixed the holsters, pushing the leather straps across his bare torso. 'Happy now?' His slender confident fingers instantly drew the gun out and a bullet hit through a Sloth on the bonnet of the Jaguar, showering the car with sand and crimson liquid.

"_You look good with a gun."_

On the perfectly smooth sky-blue bonnet of the Jaguar. Freaking showering it with the crispy scratching sand. And nasty sticky crimson liquid. All over.

'Fuck! My little azure baby! And who will pay to wash it all off? You? Penniless asshole!' Dante pointed Ivory at his brother.

'It would be fitting to remind you that the scratched paint of the boot and two smashed headlights are your own doing.' Vergil slapped the gunpoint away from his chest and set out all the charger into the group of demons ahead of the Jaguar. Luce and Ombra were easy to handle. They were sucking up a little of the demon power from Vergil's body, but it made the shots stronger… then the older Sparda found he was out of bullets. 'Where are the…'

Dante continued firing; they were slowly getting to the center of the town, there the Hellgate was. The devil hunter hadn't even once recharged the guns and the cartridge cases were falling down around him like a shower.

'What do you fire?' wondered Vergil.

'Out of bullets?' laughed Dante. 'Welcome to stage two! The guns suck out your own demonic power and fire it, spitting the energy waste as cases. Try it!'

Vergil quirked an eyebrow, waiting for it to be a joke, but the devil hunter continued stuffing the Hells with lead. Well, not lead… then.

The Dark Knight let the gun take his power and pulled the trigger. A white shot rushed out and hit the shimmering blitz Vergil was aiming at. The demon was smashed into the wall and ended up a black and yellow stain. Vergil grabbed the door of the car, his head spinning, gasping for air.

'Got a taste?' Dante hit his shoulder playfully. 'Don't let it have too much or you might faint. Heh, back me up, I'll drive.'

'You driving to the Hellgate itself?' It took a dozen more shots for Vergil to get used to the guns. 'You crazy crackhead.'

'Yeah man. Now, stew it!' Dante stepped on gas and they went towards the Gate, Vergil sitting on the edge of the door, legs on the seat, guns in both hands, clearing the way.

'You are one hard boiled bitch!' smirked Vergil on their bumpy way to the center of Oberon. 'You are getting us into the lair of these little suckers. Do you have a hydrogen bomb or something like that to take them all out?'

'Nope! It's just you and me,' Dante was moving slightly, as if dancing in the driver's seat. 'Rock n'roll, man! The party is just for us!' he threw his hands up and squealed.

The car flew into the central square and stopped abruptly right in front of the high Gate, which was adorned with a necklace of blood-goyles and numerous brooches of the Fallen, like endless white daffodils.

"_It's getting so very bad,"_ Dante jumped out of the car and took Rebellion and one of the packs from the boot. There were the twin red and blue swords, Agni and Rudra.

'Verge, promise me something,' the devil hunter narrowed his eyes. Several daffodils on the Gate bloomed and their large shining petals were floating down in the form of a horde of the Fallen.

'What?' Vergil unsheathed White Gloom the Yuki.

'When we are out of here, buy me a strawberry sundae.' Dante had Rebellion on his shoulder.

'Buy you **what**?' Vergil asked darkly. 'Looking at all these inconsistent weaklings that have no right to be called demons I still want to believe you have a plan.'

'Just kick their asses,' Dante laughed. 'This shit is what I live for! Bring it on!' he shouted to the demons, scaring the goyles into the air. Sensing the strong presence of the heirs of Sparda, the Hells were returning from the suburbs to the center of Oberon, flooding the streets and narrowing the ring around the twins, pushing them into the corner.

'Let's go! And think of how we could close the gate.' Dante dashed and cut into the heap of Hells.

'I can't believe you made me do it,' mouthed Vergil, amazed, summoned the enchanted blades and unleashed them into the Fallen coming from above. He jumped up and the black blade of Yuki danced in his hands with deadly elegance.

"_What a crazy mess he started. I wonder if he is always so reckless…"_ Vergil was standing inside a dent in the stone body of the Hellgate, on the level of the seventh floor. He turned to look at Dante and make sure the devil hunter did not die by some stray bullet or from an even more hilarious cause.

Battle was a familiar territory for Dante. It let him stop thinking, it let him forget everything and just feel the loyal sword, its worn out handle on his palm. The heavy guns were flawless. His body was dancing, every nerve and every muscle ablaze, all as one, carrying him along the thin line between life and death, an intoxicating moment lasting forever.

Vergil almost missed as a light lance of the Fallen almost pierced his chest. He was looking at Dante. The devil hunter was careless and miraculously evaded the scythes which threatened to slice his body.

It took Vergil whole three minutes to understand that in reality everything was not a miracle. Every move Dante made, the devil hunter could easily repeat, his eyes closed. Yes, it looked like Dante was a lucky bastard who hit his targets by a fluke, but the Dark Knight saw through it. By little details he was reading the whole world around him, predicting what seemed unpredictable. Dante was playing with his victims at will, reading them, before they started their attacks. The perfect body clad in some old jeans was like water flowing freely, easily avoiding both the burning beams collapsing down from the ceiling of a nearby house and the demons' scythes. He lived in all those random accidents, a spontaneous genius not even bothering to stop and comprehend what he was doing.

"_It's unforgivable to be so able and not to understand what you do. He is absolute shame to all the demons… he is a poor warrior and a stupid idiot, not caring for his technique like that. But he is marvelous and stunning…"_

'So, figured how to close the Gate?' shouted Dante from below, all covered in blood, his jeans in numerous rips. He threw his hair back and beamed at his brother, kicking away some Abyss. 'There is no end to them! We need to close the Gate!'

'It was open by Caleb from the side of the Demon world, it has his signature in blood.' Vergil shouted down from the Gate. 'I don't know how he did it, but we do not possess the power to close it.'

'What? Stop fucking with me!' panted Dante. It had been half an hour already since they entered Oberon and he hadn't had a spare second to stop and rest. He was out of breath and felt light-headed. 'I can't fucking keep it up like that! I mean, slaying all those sons'o'bitches! Gimme a break!'

Vergil was high enough to see that the town was rife with lesser demons.

'There is only one way,' the Dark Knight jumped down, the burning houses and bloody streets rushing at him, and landed at the father side of the square. 'Meet me at the car!' he shouted to Dante through the roar of the Hells and flames.

'What was it?' after a hard way of cutting through the mass of Hells, Dante fell onto the boot of the Jaguar, exhausted.

'No Devil trigger as well?' Vergil asked to be sure, coming to the car as well, swinging his blade free of the black blood, a heap of wrecked-up Hells behind him marking the path of the Dark Knight through the sea of lesser demons.

'Spot on. We are both too weak to do that,' Dante slid to the cobbled ground, sending a couple of bullets towards the slowly coming sea of demons. 'Who could have thought that they could open the real Hellgate here, huh. We are in deep shit, ain't we?'

'You could say so, I guess. There might be a way to close the Gate though.'

'Spill it already.'

'To wish for it.'

'**What?** Some stupid demon hit your head?' Dante looked at his brother standing tall next to him, and stopped mid-thought. Vergil's jeans slid down to his hips, tight around his strong legs, his bare chest was rising quickly, the leather holsters fast on, his shoulders were relaxed. Vergil had the bloodied sword in his hand, a precise light grip polished by years of training. His fierce fearless gaze was directed forward. Wind was caressing his hot skin and brushing his hair tenderly.

The next moment this majestic figure swam forward, a smooth dive through the air, and the blue wave that followed the blade of White Gloom slashed the demons that got too close.

"_Unlike me, he is a true Knight,"_ smiled Dante. He felt somewhat proud.

Vergil came back, gave him a skeptic look and said confidently:

'I summon thee, the master of everything, as I want to make a wish. Hear me, a rightful demon, and grant me my wish.'

'What the heck?' demanded Dante as nothing changed.

'It's the only way. There is a powerful demon of Hell who grants wishes. I only heard of him, but he does exist,' explained Vergil, and rubbed his forehead somewhat nervously. 'However, I lack information on the procedures required to summon him.'

'Bad news,' Dante slowly stood up, leaning onto Rebellion. 'Guess we'll have to keep alive until you think of something. I'm good at slaying demons, not summoning.'

'Fine with me. Do you mind if I use the sword?'

'You started already, so what's the point of asking. Go on. Not like we can save anything in this town.'

In about twenty minutes they were surrounded. Back to back, they could hardly stand upright.

'Any… ideas?' Dante coughed out, blood spilling from his mouth. 'I broke several ribs. I think a piece of bone is stuck in my lung.'

'No. I don't know how to do that.'

'Fuck!' Dante shouted and threw one of the Sloths back. 'Fuck, please, just **close this fucking Gate! Anyone!**' He yelled.

'Whoo-hoo!' bawled someone nearby. 'Rock it, old hag! Rush it!'

The demons around froze mid-action, their bloodied scythes raised ready but motionless. The Sloths halted in the middle of their space-shifts, the tall grey bodies only half-materialized, the sand in the air. The Abysses got caught in their floating through the surfaces of the houses and through the cobbled ground. The flames of the fires all around the city stopped burning and everything stayed still. Time stopped.

The warm rays of sun finally shone into the frozen hell of the town, and the light wind gave the twins a gulp of fresh air, soothing the heated skin, cooling off the overworked bodies.

'Worked!' snorted Vergil, hiding his involuntary relief. He was very willing to fall down and lose consciousness, but only allowed himself to lower his sword. 'Your stupid luck never ceases to amaze me.'

Pushing the Hells and scattering them around, an old cart was heading towards the square, Geryon harnessed to it, squashing Abysses with its burning blue hoofs. A crooked figure in a cloak drew the reins and the cart stopped right in front of the Sparda twins.

Vergil stepped back, already on guard again, while Dante looked pleasantly surprised

'Merchant?' the devil hunter didn't believe in the miraculous escape yet.

'Yes, m'dear,' the old lady replied, throwing the hood of her cloak back. She had long grey wavy hair and a tricky smile was playing on her lips. 'Hello to you, too.' She took hold of her skirts, numerous bracelets jingling on her wrists, and jumped down easily. 'Come out, brat!' she ordered.

'Comi-i-ing!' Came a male voice and from behind all the boxes and chests that filled the cart, appeared young blonde man with a goatee, his short light hair sticking in all directions. He wiped the little drops of the demon blood from his bare shoulder, pulled up his shorts, that were once jeans that then got their trouser-legs cut off right at the hip, and yawned. 'Hello gentlemen. One of you wanted to make a wish, am I right?'

'Yes. Nice trick stopping the time.' Dante sat down on the dirty cobble stones, not able to stand anymore. Vergil eyed the newcomers with suspicion, ready to attack any second, yet both appreciated that they didn't have to slay demons anymore. Despite how both of them were trying to hide it they were close to exhausted.

'It's Geryon's ability, I thought you fought the demon once.'

'Yeah, I'm just not in the mood to use it now.'

'Poor liar,' chuckled the young man, his flip-flops plopping on the pools of blood. 'So, I'm Azazel the Wishmaster. What is your wish?'

'To close the-'

'Wait,' interrupted Vergil. 'What is the price?'

'Clever youngster,' laughed the merchant.

'The price is different for every wish,' explained Azazel. 'First, I need to hear out the wish. Don't worry, descendant of Sparda, the contract is not active until the one who makes the wish decides in his heart that it's really what they want.'

'Do you grant any kinds of wishes?' Dante revived suddenly, as an idea popped into his head.

'Anything.'

'How many?'

'Depends how much you are able to pay. I like your stubborn stare, man. You seem like a nice customer. What do you want?'

'First, close the Gate.'

"_He doesn't know how cunning the Wishmaster can be. I mustn't let him make this contract. It was my idea anyway and it's my business to close this Gate so that Caleb isn't able to come to the Human world ever again. This is __**my**__ problem."_

'It was actually me, who wanted to make the wish,' Vergil interrupted again.

'But it was him who sincerely wished for it and summoned me,' retorted Azazel. 'So shut up and let me do my business. Your wish will cost you a day in Hell, dear.'

'I thought I have been to it already,' Dante looked skeptical.

'But I can make a wish as well, right? So it will be** my** wish to close it,' insisted Vergil.

'Fine. **Now** you really want it, so I accept the wish. You have my permission to go to Hell. You can go right through this Hellgate. The Transporter, also known as the Merchant, is right here, she will show you the way to Hell. Once you come out, come to Devil Never Cry. I'll wait there for you.'

'Deal,' said Vergil and turned to the Gate.

"_You can't go. You have been through too much. I let you go last time – not anymore. The Demon world made you heartless and cold. It killed your ability to trust, it killed you on the inside. So this time, I won't let you go, I will protect you as I should have done from the very beginning,"_ Dante stood up and strode to Vergil quickly. _"Please, take __**me**__ now. I can't let him go. We'll talk about the price later. Just please. I beg you, take care of Vergil and take __**me**__ to hell instead of him. __**Please.**__"_

There was one step left before the gash to the Demon world when Dante grabbed his shoulder. Vergil jerked, as a hand caressed the back of his neck and dry lips kissed the corner of his mouth.

'Sorry,' whispered the devil hunter and pushed himself off the edge, the power of the portal dragging him into the abyss.

Vergil unconsciously held out his hand, their fingers brushed, still Dante fell down, an empty smile spread on his lips, hiding the hurt and failing, worse than the most heart-wrenching cry. The gash shut in front of the Dark Knight.

'Dante!' Vergil shouted in vain and hit the grey stone with his fist, smashing his knuckles to blood. He turned around swiftly. 'Why did you let him? **It had to be me!**'

'He wished for it, and as soon as he agreed in his heart, the contract was activated. Besides, your brother is a better choice for going through Hell.'

'My… brother?'

'Yeah, your twin brother, Dante. The second of the only two descendants of the Legendary Dark Knight Sparda. Don't tell me you didn't know,' laughed Azazel.

Vergil leaned onto the cold surface of the Gate for support.

'Oh? You didn't? Right, you can't see properly because you sacrificed your eyesight in order to make it here. Whoopsie, I spilled the beans. Dante's your brother, the object of your utmost hate.'

The last piece of the maze fell in and everything became crystal clear in Vergil's memory and his mind was fully reassembled. The second everything that was Vergil was united back into one person, that person's mind cracked like a crystal ball and shattered.

The dry lips that kissed the corner of my mouth just seconds ago belong to… my brother.

_It's the same fool who just jumped into hell in our stead. Are we happy now? The situation is finally reversed. Huh, Vergil, is our little black world happy now? Is our inner demon satisfied with this kind of revenge? Are we going to throw a party now, with candles and porcelain cups and old red wine? Could we pretend it's the blood of this fool we spilled?_

He recklessly drove into this damned town. He probably saw the Hellgate from afar. Maybe he did not know what he was doing?

'Stop lying to yourself, coward. He knew he was driving to his end. And from the very beginning he saw the Gate and never intended you to be harmed in any way. Didn't you hear him today in the morning? Remember. You can't fool me, Azazel the Wishmaster. I see through everyone. I am no one and everyone. I am outside and inside you. Remember, what he said?'

"**Remember, Vergil. I am the Queen of your Heart. So this is your Heart's order. Remember."**

**The reason is you. There is a small smile that lights up your face, softens your features and you are not looking so stern and cold anymore. You stop frowning, your eyes become darker, a warm sky-blue. You look happy. Just like when we were kids.**

_All lies. We swear on our new emerald-green hat! We swear on the Hare! All lies of that heartless monster. He plays a joker in the pack of cards. He smiles widely when the queen loses her king. He luxuriates in the black folds of her mourning dress, playing an innocent child but laughing uglily when she covers her tear-filled eyes with a handkerchief._

Don't! I don't want to remember the pain when father disappeared! I don't want to remember!

**The bathroom door opened a little and he saw her on the floor, in tears. She was clinging to his brother, muttering: 'I'm sorry, but your father can't come anymore. He left on a very important mission. It's all so that we could live happily. I'm sorry, Dante, but he won't come anymore…' 'Tis fine, mum,' said the small creature that she was hugging desperately. 'Don't cry anymore, you have us.' It turned its face up from her shoulder and looked at Vergil standing barefoot on the cold parquet. It closed its light blue eyes and smiled a wide smile.**

_Right, that horrible smile! That empty disgusting grin, a wolf baring its teeth, ready to dig them into the flesh and bask in the blood. We remember it all too well! We remember! _

"**Cut the Hatter's head off! Cut his head off! Don't listen to the Mad ones, Vergil. Hear Dante out, Vergil, please. Listen to me, my dear. I won't give you bad orders, you know that, right? I loved you from the bottom of my Heart. I still love you, my son. So, I ask you to hear him out…"**

_You can't behead me, Queen! I am mad thus I have already lost my head. I am Mad and you won't find my head even if all the national army looks for it. And we can bet our new emerald-green hat on it, they won't!_

_Now, Vergil. Just look at the Queen. Her golden hair, her tender smile. Do you believe this bitch! Look carefully at that gaping black hole in her chest! Your Queen of Hearts doesn't have a heart! She's a heartless demon! Just another copy of your mother. Like that worm, what was her name? Trish…_

Trish… Why did this monster live with him? Did he use her as a replacement? My mother died, and as painful as it was, I just had to accept that. She died for Dante and nothing can be done about that. But that Trish demon… why did he take her?

'Don't you know? Idiot. Blind idiot. Why do I have to spell everything out for you? Right, right, this is part of my job as the Wishmaster… Look, Vergil. You know yourself why he let her stay.'

_A heartless dirt like her! She wouldn't know what the difference between a human and a beast is! We swear on the Hare!_

'**Oh, believe me,' panting, Trish raised her head and glared at him. 'I know better than you ever will. He taught me. It is him, your brother who saves everyone. It is him who comes to people's rescue when there is no hope. Did you know that he tried to kill himself in desperate mourning over you, fucker? Have you ever come to the empty house to find him sitting in just jeans in a bathtub full of his own blood, his wrists slit and bleeding in long red ribbons, a cigarette in his purplish lips that carry an empty smile? Even though it is stupid – this mourning and self-beating he did – this is still much more than you ever did or ever will be able to do for him!'**

No! Don't make me think about it! It's too scary. I don't want to! My chest hurts, it hurts so much! Just like the day she died… Please, I don't want to think about…it… I don't want to feel this bitterness and void inside! I **am not guilty! I am right!**

_Of course we are right, Vergil. We were her true child. That monster stole everything from us. They are together, that Trish and Dante. There is no way he would feel anything. He is heartless! We need to kill him! Like all the others who stand in our way! He is just another pawn that has to be eliminated on our way to collecting the power of Sparda! He doesn't have feelings! Remember, he didn't even cry when she died! And, of course, he wouldn't be practicing suicide! Trish lied!_

"**Behead the Hatter. That is an order. The floor goes to Vergil. Vergil, my dear, tell me. Did the suspect have feelings? What did the suspect want with you?"**

Guilty… I feel so guilty… what was I thinking…

'**I'm sorry, Verge,' Dante took the gun from the floor. A drop of blood fell from the corner of his eye. Then another one, and then they went rolling down his dirty cheeks, the Bloody Tears, covering his skin with wide red streaks. The sign of utmost pain a demon could ever feel. Dante put the gun to his temple. 'Sorry, Verge. The thing you wanted is broken. I am not usable anymore.' **

**And looking into Vergil's red eyes, he pulled the trigger. There was a flash of crimson as the bullet went through the skull and out. The gunshot echoed through the dungeons.**

**There was the smell of rain. The Dark Knight closed his eyes and imagined that downpour on top of the tower. 'I just don't like you. That's all.'**

I thought you were not that different from any other demon. I thought you didn't care. When everything was over and it was only us who were left, you did not do anything. You stayed in the Human world; did you ever want to avenge her? What did you feel there, sitting under the window as she was killed in front of your eyes? What did you think when I so foolishly ran to her, when I took the second shot, protecting her – and you?

What did you feel?

_He didn't feel anything! He is a useless spawn who lacks the feelings!_

Why did you not die? It should have been you! She was not supposed to die for you that day under the window!

'**Sto…' Dante wheezed, choking. 'I can't die… You… promised her…'**

"**Justify, my dear Vergil, this is an order from the Queen of Hearts. Did the suspect have feelings? Was he capable of committing suicide?"**

It was horrifying. He was looking into my eyes when he pulled the trigger. I think I am never going to forget his face. Please, someone, stop it all! I don't want to feel it! There is too much pain… the tears won't stop…

'**Sorry, Verge. The thing you wanted is broken. I am not usable anymore.' **

"**I don't think he was serious, though. I mean, about dying. I am the Queen and I have to be sure, but if you ask me, I don't think he was serious. Even if he had decided in his soul that he wanted to die, he wouldn't be able to disappear from this world. You know why, Vergil?"**

No. How can it be, Trish?

_Don't listen to her! Stop, Vergil! Don't we hate her! Look, she's not your Queen of Hearts anymore! She is Trish, that demon who tricked and hurt you! We should find revenge! We swear on our new hat, she's lying! She is lying like everyone is lying to you in this world. We were born special and there is no one whom we could trust in this world! If you open your heart, you will get hurt. This is what we understood, don't you remember? This is how we survived so far! Don't cross that line! No trust to no one, Vergil!_

"**Long ago, Dante told me, he made a promise to protect you and take care of you. So he won't die until you do."**

'**Sto…' Dante wheezed, choking under him. 'I can't die… You… promised her…'**

Why did he make that promise? Did he… make a promise to her just like I did? **Did he?**

Who are you to me, Dante? I do not remember, so tell me. Please. Please. Make them go away. I am so tired of all this. I want to rest, but they keep torturing me. Make them leave my head…

'**I am the one who promised to take care of you, but the one whom you will never want to have at your side. I promised to protect you – however it is impossible when you are on this crusade for power. I won't ask you why you need it. I just wish I could understand and help you. But I know you don't want me and never will.**

**When you remember everything… if you choose to blame something on me and hate me, it's alright. I just want you to know that as I promised, I will be there for you. No matter what you choose – to hate me or to trust me.'**

You are scary, Dante. This is not the answer I wanted to hear.

"**We get the answers that we don't want more often than the answers we want, don't we, Vergil, dear? So don't wait for a particular one, that's common sense."**

Dante, what are you? Do you really feel? What do you want with me?

'**I told you I am broken already. What fun do you get playing with me?'**

Maybe I consider it fun to mend the broken you, who knows. Night. Or morning. Do I consider it fun to mend you? Are you really broken? Why are you, then? Am I broken? Why am I, then? I could escape just like that: driving an azure Jaguar at 200 miles per hour wherever the wind took me, with a stupid devil hunter Dante as my companion. Drive just like that into the sunset. Why in the world do we need anything else? Obviously, we don't. Are we broken? Why are we, then?

'**Want me to tell you how not to miss?' Dante patted his brother's shoulder. 'Think of something you hate the most – and shoot. Just try it.'**

Fine. I hate you, brother!..

I missed. How do you explain that?

'**The reason is, you don't really hate whatever you thought of. So you couldn't fire properly. The drawback of this trick is to be honest to yourself. Absolutely honest.'**

_Of course we hate him! It was the flaw in the gun. Or the stupid trick! We hate him the most. He is the reason she died! He is the reason for all our misfortunes. He is a heartless half-breed that can't even shed a tear! He is in our way! We just need to continue our way just like she wanted us! We should trust no one and collect the power. More power… More power…_

But he is part of the power I need…

**Dante's face was frozen as if caught mid-emotion. Sad sky-blue eyes open, but seeing nothing. Thin lips slightly parted, in white cum and red blood stains. So beautiful and so desired.**

I want him. His power…

_Of course we want his power! We'll kill him and we'll get it!_

I want him. His power, and himself.

"**Of course you do, dear. You have always wanted to be friends with him. But you pushed him away yourself. He was hurt and tired, and he gave up on trying to befriend you. Don't you think that's logical."**

Did he want me, too once? No way! He had everything he wanted.

_Of course he didn't! He never wanted us, he wanted us to disappear!.._

"**Execute the Hatter!**

**Right, Vergil. But he didn't want what he had. You remember, right? All he really ever wanted was your friendship and your warmth. But you pushed him away, you did not want to share, you did not want to be affected by his…"**

Hate? His power? His anger? His heartless being?

"… **kindness and happiness. He enjoyed life as much as he could. Don't you remember?"**

That's nonsense! He was always happy he did not want me. He was happy stealing everything from me!

"**You didn't want to share what was his, did you, Vergil? I am the Queen of your heart, so I would know better. Remember, lying in the grass. When did he stop trying to take your hand?"**

The cautious fingers would try to take my hand, but I would get angry and say it was childish, he would always smile though. He knew that longing to feel loved and needed. It drove him crazy, too. It stopped… When we were six?

**They were lying at the hotel. Cautious fingers touched his hand lightly, and Vergil flinched. The fingers were strong. They squeezed tenderly.**

Don't tell me! It never stopped?

"**When did you stop seeing tears in his eyes when you lay there in the grass, looking at the painfully blue sky?"**

Wasn't he smiling?

"**True, his lips were smiling. But when did you stop seeing his eyes?"**

He wanted me? My warmth?

'**Say you don't want me.' – 'I… don't…' croaked Dante and his whole body shook. – 'Liar,' panted Vergil, his breath a warm breeze over Dante's lips pulling them ajar.**

He did… And I wanted him, too… I wanted him. His power, everything he had, and himself…

'**I wish I could reduce you to a mindless wanton creature. I want your lips on me; I want your passion all over my skin… The best feeling of control over a living being. I want you thrashing on the sheets, hair damp with sweat, your icy eyes looking only at me, seeing only me… leaning into my touch, wanting more, begging for more…'Vergil bit his lip and his nails dug into the tiles, breaking them.**

'**Dante!..' he cried out in a low husky voice, either commanding or pleading. The white cum covered his fingers, and to Vergil it seemed hotter than the water.**

'**Tell me something,' the devil hunter grabbed Vergil's chin to attract his attention. 'Look me in the eye and tell me, what do you think about your brother?'**

'**Brother…' he frowned. 'He is my most beloved friend and my bitterest rival, my confidant and my betrayer, my sustainer and my dependent, and – hmpf, - scariest of all, my equal. Why?'**

He wanted to know… He wanted to know if I hated him… Did I? I didn't…

'**You fucker you could have told me at least once!' the devil hunter's hands clutched at Vergil's shoulders as he shook his brother's body violently. 'I almost killed myself more times than you can count, and you couldn't tell me even once! Once would have been enough for a lifetime! It would have been enough for all eternity! I hate you, you self-centered asshole!'**

He was desperate. Did I hurt him? Did I want to? Did he hate me for that?

'**Yes, I hate you,' Dante whispered, hiding his eyes and embracing his knees.**

Do you… Do you want to kill me?

'**Why?' Dante lowered his head to his knees and chuckled bitterly, closing his eyes. His voice was even and low, barely above whisper. 'I don't want to kill you, Vergil. I hate you because the only thing you give me is pain. You either hurt me intentionally or unintentionally… either way, the result is the same. And I hate it. I hate you because you never listen to me and you never notice me. I hate myself as well, for not being able to change anything. So, see, Verge, it is ironical. I hate both of us. But I don't want death for either of us.'**

**Vergil saw the desperation in Dante's icy eyes, then the flash of pain, that was a frequent guest in Dante's heart, it seemed, but then the devil hunter's eyes softened and he whispered, smiling:**

'**You are my most beloved friend and my bitterest rival, my confidant and my betrayer, my sustainer and my dependent, and scariest of all, my equal. Now, watch the road, Verge.'**

Verge… sounds nice…

He didn't hate me. I didn't either… how did it turn out this ugly way? I like it when he calls me that. Like when we were kids…

'**Verge!' Dante cried out in pleasure.**

I tugged at his hair roughly that morning…

'**It hurts, asshole!'**

It was supposed to! You had to shut up and let me sleep a little more.

'**Whatever.' Dante sank into the pillow, embracing his brother. A minute passed when one of Dante's hands slid up and roughly tugged at Vergil's hair.**

Fuck!

'**Revenge,' snickered Dante.**

That stubborn fucker. Ahahaha… Don't tell me that was his **revenge**? That was his revenge for everything that happened between us?

"**Uncommon nonsense, says the Queen. Clean up the mess after the execution of the Hatter."**

Vergil was leaning onto the Gate. He suddenly started laughing like a madman.

'Absolute nonsense! Nonsense! All of it! This world is crazy! Shit,' tears of laughter started rolling down his cheeks. 'I screwed up! I so screwed up! If you guys are right, I fucked up everything I could and a thousandfold more!'

"**Remember this morning, Vergil? Listen to the Queen of your Heart one last time, Vergil. Do you remember?"**

'_Thank you,' Dante carefully kissed him on the cheek. 'Thanks for letting me into this sweet lie, even for such a short time. It will all end here, did you know? You probably didn't. Once everything is over today, I will tell you. It has been really nice to have you polite and everything. I mean, apart from those times when you kept hitting on me. Come on, man!_

_But, you know, there was one reason why I could not stop you. And it was not because I liked it. Nope, everything is much more simple. The reason is you. When I give in, there is a small smile that lights up your face, softens your features and you are not looking so stern and cold anymore. You stop frowning, your eyes become darker, a warm sky-blue. You look happy. Just like when we were kids._

_Let's go, Vergil. Life never gives us time, right?'_

'Hey, are you okay?' Azazel was shaking Vergil's limp body, hitting him against the cold stone of the Gate.

'This is madness,' whispered Vergil, his stare empty, his voice lifeless.

...

'So, that's a deal. It will be you who will pay for Vergil's wish to close the Gate. Do you have anything else that you desire?'

'Azazel, here are my wishes. I am ready to pay whatever price you name, except for giving up my life.

First, eliminate the demons, so that Vergil is safe there.

Second, I want you to give Verge his sight back.

Third…

Nevermind. The third one I have to make come true myself.'

'You had me interested, what was the third?'

'I want to fix this dysfunctional family of mine. I want Vergil to be my brother and I want to be a brother for him. I want to erase the word hate from our memories.'

'Good luck.'

"_Huh, not like you will really need it, son of Sparda."_ Azazel smirked. _"Or shall I say the Destined Devil, your highness?"_

**...endo chap 11...**

Muhahaha truth revealed!

**Next coming: Out of the frying pan into the fire.**

**Vergil comes back to DNC to wait for Dante to arrive. Guess in what mood! Mwahaha. Dante returns… wait, why is he literally falling apart and why the blood and cum? Kill or help, what will Vergil chose?**

**And just what does Azazel know about the Legendary Dark Knight Sparda and his disappearance from Eva and the twins. What does Azazel know about the day Eva died? Is the Dante that came back sane and is he able to pay for his other wishes? Btw what is Destined Devil and what it has to do with Caleb and co who are after Vergil?**

Reviews are the salary of my muse, so don't be greedy!

See ya!

Ethan


	12. p2:Out of the frying pan into the fire

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**Babling**

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**Warnings:** implied violence and explicit result of it. And Madness, of course)

**Betad by Tora_Katana *****Chuuu~***

**Betad over by Nimlinven *Hum, Hum, bless thy slave with the writing wisdom, oh, the great one!***

I finally finished this part, so I post while no urgent need to study) Hope you like it, heheh. It's mental s&m as always))) and some non-mental, too))

'Dialogue'

"_Thoughts"_

"**Queen of Hearts"**

'**Cheshire Cat'**

_Hatter_

**Memories**

.......................................

**Chap 12**

**We are all mad here**

**Part 02. /**__**Out of the frying pan into the fire**

'Vergil!' Azazel was shaking his limp body, hitting him against the cool stone of the Gate.

"**Listen to your Queen of the Heart, my dear. You should try to understand Dante."**

'**She makes some sense. She executed the Hatter, truly a wise decision. Since the Hatter is not here anymore, I can join the conversation. So as the facts are, Dante as we knew him these last days was a nice chap. Will you think about it? That's a request of a cat. Cats are wise animals, don't you know?'**

'I-… I need to think,' Vergil coldly pushed the Wishmaster away and staggered to the Jaguar, not really seeing anything.

'Scared me there,' the blonde demon sighed, scratching his bare shoulder. 'Where are you going?'

'I… I don't know,' Vergil lowered himself into the driver's seat, carefully closed the door and clutched at his head. 'I don't know. I don't know anything anymore!' he screamed out, his voice echoing through the frozen time.

"**Vergil, dear…"**

'**Give him some time to think, Queen. Disappear just like me – and leave your grin behind…'**

'Transporter', Azazel addressed the old woman, 'go guide Dante through Hell and make sure he understands this. If he doesn't meet me today in the evening at Devil Never Cry, he will stay in Hell forever. Take Geryon and go.'

'Uh, look what you do to an old lady. Youngsters these days…' the old hag jumped up onto the cart.

'And remind him, he has to stay sane!' the Wishmaster snickered as the cart drove from the square and disappeared in an explosion of blue sparks and flames.

The next moment all the demons in the streets vanished without a trace, the fires went out and the glowing inscriptions on the Hellgate dimmed, leaving an empty town with a gigantic dead stone in the centre.

'Do you mind if I keep you company?' Azazel sat in the car.

'I don't care,' Vergil leaned over the steering-wheel, tired.

'**See? You push the boy. Let him make his own decisions, Queen. He's all grown up now. And that is an obvious fact.'**

'Go to Devil Never Cry. I want to wait there for him.'

Without a word Vergil started the Jaguar and the car slowly slid into one of the empty half-destroyed streets, heading out of the damned town.

'But I'm so intrigued!' laughed Azazel. 'Don't you want to know if he gets out? No one ever made it through Hell.'

'What? Are you saying he'll die in Hell?' Vergil braked suddenly, slapped out of his inner turmoil.

"_He isn't coming back? He will disappear? Dante will be no more? He'll die?"_

"**Your Heart wants to believe he'll come back…"**

'**But you can't be sure. In this world, you can't be sure no matter what. Only the facts are true, everything else is the people's imagination. What you can touch and feel – that is real. Dante's not here. You can't touch and feel him, so he is not a fact. He is not a truth. Therefore, there is no evidence he will ever come back.'**

'Who knows. I bet he would get through,' Azazel smiled, his elbow on the door of the car, his intent stare scrutinizing the bright purplish sky at the horizon.

'Did he know that…'

'**I wonder if he realized what it meant to go to Hell. As a matter of fact, I wonder if the Hell is the place, you, Vergil, have already been to. The Demon world, that is.'**

"**Or he ended up in a place much worse. It's endearing in some way, that misfortune of Dante's."**

'He had no idea, of course.' The Wishmaster put his feet in blood-soaked slippers on the dashboard. 'You should know him better, you are his brother, after all. He just jumped into it, as usual.'

'Why? I don't understand.'

'Wanna know?'

'Of course I want to know why that brainfuck of my problematic brother decided to suddenly act pubescent, play Crist and descent into Hell in my stead in all the glory of his foolishness and stupidity, and it wouldn't hurt me to know how in this mad world of absurdity, the thought of saving me being his priority number one fit into that ever-empty cranium of his, after several days that he for some incomprehensible reason was catering for me and walking on tiptoes before me, disregarding that I was sufficiently troublesome for him to explode every five seconds and even stated at some point rather bluntly that I wouldn't mind getting into his pants, and knowing his short temper and ability to hold grudges against me for years if not forever, I doubt he did all the niceties and politenesses without an ulterior motive, which scares me most of all, as his mental abilities were never something to brag about and if he has a plan, it should be some insanity to beware and to escape from for good, and now, for the first time in my life, I really want to know what that pathetic mess of inferiority complex and fake suicidal tendencies thinks to himself, even if it abuses my mind to the point of no repair.** Yes, dammit I want some bloody fucking answers!**' Vergil spit out angrily, squeezing the steering-wheel and abruptly turned to the Wishmaster to glare at him.

'Wow, that was a mouthful,' Azazel nodded for him to continue on their route.

'Do. I make. Myself. Clear?' the Dark Knight hissed.

'I get the idea. Let's see. First of all, don't worry,' the Wishmaster relaxed in his seat. 'We have a lot of time now that Dante is in Hell.'

'Will he die?' asked Vergil darkly and continued on his way out of the town, driving automatically, barely registering the movements of his own hands.

'We won't know how he is, until this evening,' Azazel waved his hand in a dismissive manner.

"_Dante,"_ the Dark Knight still did not know how he really felt towards the devil hunter. _"I considered you the most useful man I have ever met. I put you among those few people whom I wanted to know closer. Just what goes on in that head of yours? Why did you help me?.. You are strong as you are, though I hate to admit it. What do __**you**__ want to earn? I wanted to know, but I won't ever find out if you don't make it through Hell. Why did you have to jump instead of me?_

_No need to worry, he says. Plenty of time… then, I shall deal with the questions one by one."_

'I take it, now you are whole?' Azazel threw his head back and sat staring above him, enjoying the light vault of heaven of the Human world and the sun that was now already high in the sky.

'Explain yourself.' The car was speeding along the highway.

'Since I last met you, this must have been the last bit of memories that they held secret from you. So you finally should be the Vergil himself, whole and self-sufficient.'

'If not, I will be… rather upset. And for your information, I have never before had the disappointment of meeting you.'

'Wrong. Didn't you make a wish to come from the Demon world to the Human world?'

'An ordinary sign in blood, that carries no significance. Get to the point already, your disability to efficiently provide information irritates me.' Vergil stepped on the gas, impatiently biting his lower lip.

'It's not a simple sign!' Azazel shouted, offended. 'It's a contract with me, according to which, by the way, you traded your eyesight in exchange for the transportation! Ungrateful asshole.'

'Don't push your luck, spill it. Wishmaster or not, it won't stop me from cutting you,' the Dark Knight glared at the demon again, ready to tear his jaws apart to make him talk.

'Fine, fine,' surrendered the Wishmaster, feeling the danger. 'You two are truly interesting to have deals with. Humans and their desires. Heh. First of all, I closed the Gate, and it was **you** who made a wish for it.'

'How is it even possible? I'm here, and you don't ask for any payment.' Vergil started to suspect subconsciously a bad turn of events.

'Right, that's the funny part,' Azazel laughed, amused. 'Your payment was to suffer through Hell, but Dante wished to go instead of you. So I made his wish come true, and he passed through the Gate.'

Vergil bit his lip to blood. Annoyance fretted at him with surprising fervour. Everything was decided for him again, he was left powerless by that joker. But at the same time, as he thought of Dante going to Hell for him, Vergil's chest held a dull strange sorrow, that left him restless.

'What?' The Dark Knight slowly asked, like an obligation. He did not feel like being sarcastic, but did it involuntarily. It was a way to say everything was still the same. Even if in reality it wasn't. 'Is he that retarded?'

"_Why. I don't understand. I refuse to believe he just did it for me. What is in it for him. Nonsense…"_

'And guess what? Not only did he go to Hell, he also will have to pay for this wish. Crazy, huh?'

'If he was that stupid, then he deserves it,' Vergil pronounced automatically, not even aware of what his lips were saying. He was staring at the empty grey road ahead. His eyes were stinging. _"It's the wind."_

"_He wished to go. He sincerely wished to save me from that? He just fell into Hell."_ Dull pain was tormenting him, coiling traitorously in his aching chest. The falling figure was still in front of his eyes as if it were just a second ago. _"Will he come back? Will I ever see him again? Will I be able to ask him all these questions? No one made it through Hell. Why did you jump, you fucker! I went to the Demon world and barely made it back. But you went to Hell itself… what am I supposed to do now? Wait here? Just wait, drowning in these viscid minutes of uncertainty? Is this how you felt when I left? It's horrible. How did you live through this… torment."_

'Tell me what you know about Hell, that place where Dante went,' Vergil demanded peremptorily.

'Oh, it's a special place. My favourite.' Azazel grinned and scratched his head which made his hair stick out even more. He seemed to be making a fine work of ignoring Vergil's foul mood. 'In the palace of Hades, that towers over the capital of the damned ones, there is a room, where only the Demon Lord can enter. There is the door, behind which is nothing – just white void. That is the entrance to Hell. The Netherworld, or the Demon world as we know it, all fear that place. Few have the courage to say the name of the room aloud. That Hell is a true torture for souls of any kind, so very few entered it by their free will, the Dark Knight Sparda being one of those.'

'When was it?' Vergil was taken aback. 'How did it happen? Did he die there?' _"Was it Hell where he disappeared forever? Is that why he couldn't come to us anymore? Will Dante perish there just like father?"_

'Listen carefully. He went there just like you would have – to pay for the wish. He wished that his bloodline, his children would survive no matter what.'

'Father went to Hell to protect us?'

'He said that there would always be demons who would come for you, wishing for the power of Sparda. So he accepted the payment even though, unlike Dante, he knew where he was going.

Hell, as we call it, is more like a purgatory, if you live through it that is. Going there is the payment for the wish that changes the story of the world. So, in return, Hell changes the world of the wish-maker.

First, it breaks the mind completely. It slowly drives the wish-maker crazy, until he believes white is black and black is white. Then it tells him how everything really is and converts him back, overwhelming his whole being with the ever-true knowledge, the truth so shocking, that almost no living creature could withstand it and stay sane.

Then the delicious part starts. When the wish-maker barely recognizes himself, when he loses the sense of time and space, it breaks him by bits. Hell creates a personal world for the wish-maker, a world where he is brought through the whole rainbow of emotions, one by one. A row of unique situations modeled only for the wish-maker, to go from fear to calmness, from happiness to regret and sorrow, until the wish-maker does not distinguish them, and then again until every one of the feelings sharpens like never before.

Hell cracks the personality, messing up hopes and desires. In the world, created only for the wish-maker, it fulfills every wish and every whim, then makes all fears become real. Every little piece of fright that ever visited the heart of the wish-maker is revealed and multiplied until it is overpowering – and then brought to life.

And then, there is the last part – the physical one. So much like with the soul, Hell makes the wish-maker feel every gradation of all the senses, and when the physical feelings become sharpened as well, it finishes with sex.

It brings both body and soul from utmost pain to utmost pleasure until there is no difference.

And then, it's over.

No one, who ever came out of that place, saw the world with the same eyes. It changes everything – more, or less. Many would just wander to the exit, not knowing any purpose in this life. They did not even perceive themselves as creatures who could think. It's my duty as the Wishmaster to kill those.

Then… when Sparda came out, I asked him if he remembered who he was. He smiled and asked if I would fulfill his promise. I swore I would. Heck, he just smiled in spite of everything. I looked around for a cloth to cover his broken body but when I turned to face him… he was gone. I never saw him again.

He was the first living creature to ever come out sane. Well, apart from me, that is. But I'm a whole different entity,' Azazel went silent.

Before, Vergil thought he knew what dread was. It turned out, he did not know anything. Realization struck him suddenly like a bolt of lightning strikes a child, a merciless power pinning him to the ground, insufferable weight burning everything inside. Crushing him like an worthless insect.

Only one person in that whole damned world of betrayal. Only one person, who was Vergil's flesh and blood. Looking at him, Vergil saw himself. Those were his light steps, that was his silhouette, his shoulders, his strong arms, his long white hair, his smirk on his lips, his icy azure eyes, his stubborn glare. His – and Dante's. There was no need to guess – like a second part of his body, second part of his heart, Vergil could always tell it was his twin approaching. Two separate beings, yet one whole.

The jester was always there, like a constant in an equation. Never changing, that goofy grin, that intent stare. Always there to fuck everything up, always there to meddle into his business. The only reliable presence in the ever corroded world. The joker in the pack of cards. His last card. **His** Joker.

Whatever motives Dante had, he left to die. Vergil's body was physically still whole, yet his heart lacked something, like he lost an arm or the whole half of his body. A wound was torn open on him, Vergil could smell the blood, fell the crushed bones and broken tendons. He was a bloody broken mess that was twined around with milliards of threads of thin diamond fishing line, a heap of organs tied together by the bared nerves, that shining thin network closing up at his heart.

Vergil's body was still there. But the pain – oh, he thought he knew what that word meant. He thought he knew what loneliness felt like.

The sky was bright and blue. The Jaguar was taking Vergil ahead, from one nameless place to another, where some people who despised him and didn't care for him, awaited his return. He would leave them behind and disappear.

It was cold, Vergil automatically held his foot on the gas. He did not move at all, frozen suddenly by that overwhelming silence of loneliness. It made him deaf, mute and blind.

Only the strained diamond network of nerves kept him in one piece, his hoar-frost covered body pulsating with emptiness.

Whatever it was, hate or friendship, that connected him to the other – for the first time in his life Vergil just saw clearly that they were truly connected. Maybe it was the demon blood, maybe it was just the way it was destined to be.

"_Our wretched lives, our wretched hearts. Like one."_

'You never value what you have until you lose it,' sighed Azazel, opened the glove box and found a pack of cigarettes.

"_Like one no more."_

"_If he never returns, will I stay like this? Will I be frozen?_

_My only friend and my only true rival. Hate for you kept me going. Will I stop now, and stay like this forever? These raw feelings tearing me apart._

_Will I freeze inside out, until my eyes are dim and my mind whole no more?_

_Will you return? Despite the Wishmaster, despite the rules of the world. Will you?"_

'Gimme... one,' Vergil muttered, unstuck his ice-cold fingers from the steering wheel and held out his shaking hand.

"_My hand is shaking… first time in years…" _he took the offered almost crushed cigarette, placing it between his fingers uneasily. The Wishmaster snickered and handed him the small metal lighter. Vergil awkwardly let go of the steering wheel and lit the cigarette finally after a number of unsuccessful tries. He let one of his hands drop lifelessly back onto the wheel and inhaled the acid smoke. It tasted like tears in his mouth. _"Why am I feeling all this? Its not like I should really care about what happens to him… I always ignored him and it was fine…"_

"**Oh, Vergil, face it. You were always confident that Dante will be there for you, forever. You never bothered with him, ignored his existence, left him and hated him – all because of your trust for him. You were confident in him, he was the only other that stayed untouched by the cruel run of time, no matter what happened, he was there, and you came to believe he is a constant."**

"_Are you saying I am feeling this pain and loneliness because of him? Because he is not here?"_

"**But of course, my dear Vergil. Be truthful to yourself. Now you are afraid that he won't come back anymore, and you are shaken, You don't want to be alone, you don't want him to leave you, just like your father, just like I had to leave you, my dear son."**

'**Oh, and don't forget about the other things, Queen.'**

"_What other things? What else? I don't want to believe all you are saying!"_

'**But it's a fact, young boy, that you care for your little brother. You don't want him to be killed. Neither you want him to suffer.'**

'_I am the only one who should have the right to make him miserable. I should be the only cause of his grief.'_

'**Sounds like someone jealous and possessive to me. What do you suggest, your Excellency?'**

"**Nothing. Let us just leave Vergil to face it. And disappear in whole, this time, your grin gets on my nerves…"**

'You worry about your little brother?' Azazel asked after several minutes of silence.

'Somewhat,' Vergil clenched his teeth, crumbling the end of the cigarette.

'I hope he is okay. After all, he is your equal, I personally made sure of that. And he was not as exhausted as you were.'

'What do you mean personally? He does not even know his potential himself, it took me a lot of trouble to awake his demon side,' Vergil frowned. _"He was after death, how can one be more exhausted than that?"_

'Well, unlike you, he did not go to the Demon world, so he was a better choice. He is not that easy to break as you are. Moreover, unlike all other demons, both of you had your powers unsealed since childhood. I did it so that when the demons came for you and your lovely mother, you two could protect her.'

Vergil nervously laughed out.

'Protect her! That little… He was shaking with fear, sitting there hiding behind her!'

'Oh?' Azazel smirked and threw his cigarette out, the houses of the city were already close, soon they would arrive to Devil Never Cry. 'Is **that** what you think? Foolish boy.'

'What?' snapped Vergil. 'What else don't I know? Tell me, this instant.'

'Both of you had the power to protect her then, this is what Sparda paid for. However, you, Vergil, rushed to sacrifice yourself, to be a shield for your brother and for her. You were knocked down unconscious. Whether it's destiny or chance, we will never know, but it was Dante who was the only one left there. Do you really think the force that came for you two would just turn around and leave, your precious bodies with the blood of the Legendary Dark Knight Sparda lying helplessly on the floor?' Azazel stroke his goatee thoughtfully.

'Just what in the world happened then?' Vergil muttered eerily.

'Ask you brother. After all, he witnessed everything.'

The Dark Knight was falling apart, slowly, constantly. Vergil drove through the streets, heading to Devil Never Cry, and his heart was restless. So many things he did not know.

The Jaguar stopped in front of the agency. Vergil slid out, hugging himself and stroking his bare shoulders, but the chill was still under his skin. He walked to the old door with the iron pattern over the glass and halted.

'Let's go,' whispered the Wishmaster behind him, but Vergil jerked his hand off the doorknob, turned around and sat down on the stairs.

'Here is fine. I'll wait,' came his hoarse from emotion voice.

'Oh,' Azazel was surprised. 'I'll go inside then and tell the others you are whole now.' The Wishmaster opened the door and went inside to be met by the women's voices.

'Please do,' replied Vergil automatically.

I didn't know. I rushed to conclusions, and now my only brother is in Hell, suffering for me of his own free will. How did it turn out like this?

"_Sorry, Verge…"_ echoed in his memory.

The voice that called him 'Verge' sounded painfully familiar. It had the sharp edge that reminded Vergil of old times when he had fencing training. This voice brought up the memories of sunny days, when they would lie in the grass, too exhausted to move.

Then cautious fingers would try to take his hand, but he would get angry and say it was childish, he would always smile though. He knew that longing to feel loved and needed. It drove him crazy, too. However, he'd say:

"_Cut it out."_

'I'm sorry,' Vergil let the words escape his lips, barely above whisper. 'It's true, you are dear to me. It's just… I can't admit it. Sorry…'

.......................................

The golden disk of the sun finally disappeared behind the roofs. No one came out of Devil Never Cry, and Vergil was thankful. He never moved since he came to sit on the stairs there, and he was grateful for no disturbance.

Vergil was still cold, clad only in old blood-stained blue jeans and shoes, but he didn't even shiver. Only on the inside the need for an embrace grew impossibly strong.

The dull pain in his chest had sharpened with time and now was feasting on him, slicing his insides and burning his skin with the frosty coating of desperation.

Waiting silently on the steps of the agency was unbearable. It was eating him alive, tightening the strings of his nerves, baring his heart and anatomizing it slowly, painfully.

It Dante wasn't his brother, everything wouldn't be so complicated.

But Dante was. His brother.

_Why didn't he tell us sooner?_

Really, why?

_We wouldn't have to suffer now… We wouldn't have to deal with what we did, unknowing._

Why didn't he tell me sooner? I wouldn't have let him go to Hell alone, and I wouldn't have to sit here and wait for him, crumbling down.

_It's him again… He messes our life and…_

Of course he does. He always messes everything up. If only he had told me…

_He is not worthy of our pain for him… We wouldn't sacrifice ourselves for him, so all that was completely unnecessary._

**Dante grabbed his shoulder, a hand caressed the back of his neck and dry lips kissed the corner of his mouth.**

'**Sorry,' whispered the devil hunter and pushed himself off the edge, the power of the portal dragging him into the abyss.**

It was not unnecessary. He is worthy. If it were me, I would have jumped for him. Because I promised to protect my brother.

_Of course, but how can we protect him if he doesn't even tell us he is our brother?_

Right, he should have said. I don't ever want to have to worry about him like that.

_But he will make us worry only more if we continue to care about him…_

I don't care now. Just… please, let him come back already. Let him come…

_But…_

Vanish! I don't want to hear excuses! I just want him to come back. Just come back…

Something jingled and a figure walked into the street from behind the corner. White hair was a dirty mess, covering the face. The tall once strong body was half-torn, whole pieces of flesh ripped off from arms and legs so that the white bone in rosy streaks could be seen. Wounds gaped like black and scarlet wholes all over the cum and blood and bruise-covered naked body. Blood and cum – splashes like white and red rose petals, like the emperor's clothing, like regalia on the pale skin.

The dark hooks on chains dove into the skin, hitched up on the ribs, crimson streaks dripping from where they tore flesh. The old metal cuffs on the ankles and wrists were clinking, numerous chains like a train behind him as he walked slowly to Devil Never Cry.

Vergil rose from the stairs, his glacier eyes snapping wide open in shock, tears ready to roll. It was hard to breathe, Vergil was choking on air, trembling.

"_Fuck - you are here! Oh, for everything that's sacred, don't you… Don't you ever go to Hell again! Just look at you, it was not worth it! Just don't do things like this anymore… I need to take care of you now, I'll treat you, I'll save you, just don't hurt yourself like this anymore! _

_And please, I beg you, don't you ever do this to me again. Don't you make me wait like that, don't you hurt yourself for me like that! "_

'Hey,' Dante walked up to Vergil and his broken bruised lips smiled, his light blue eyes looked up. _"I hope you aren't really angry at me. Hope you won't turn away from this broken stained me. Please, Vergil?"_

"_Don't you do things like this anymore… Dante… Shit…Don't do everything alone! Don't decide everything yourself!"_

'Idiot,' shouted Vergil angrily and slapped Dante, the devil hunter's face turning to the side by the force of the blow. 'Don't you ever!'

"_Don't you ever scare me like that! Don't you ever do such stupid things again! You could have died! Idiot!"_

Dante's body shook; without turning back to look at Vergil, he fell down to his knees, then to the ground.

"_No helping it, then. Sorry, Vergil. If you don't want me, it's okay. I give up. Sorry…" _Something tender that still remained glued and tied in one piece in Dante cracked and shattered. His broken lips smiled that empty smile, Vergil's nightmare. The beautiful icy eyes froze and saw nothing.

The body was alive, but Dante was not there anymore.

'Cool,' said the Wishmaster from the doorframe. 'That dude made it through Hell sane and safe and sound and you just broke him down to nothing in fifteen seconds. That's some skill.'

**.......................................****endo chap 12.......................................**

Hehehe Don't tell me you thought it can't be worse cause it's gonna be! (in chap 14 I think)

**Next coming: Not sure, but most likely Vergil mends Dante. ****Haaawt action and UST for the readers! One of my fetishes surfacing… (another one apart from the shower and the car XD) They are gonna … kiss! Yay!**

Erm, reviews, pretty please? It's really important for me to know what you think and feel while reading my story, it helps to improve it as it goes. So please don't be lazy, drop me a line!

~~Omg! I got 5 reviews on the posting day *marks the day with the red marker in the calendar*

THANK YOU! I shall pay back with my work!

Btw, where the heck are you, Tears? Where are my old fellas? Т_Т

See ya!

Ethan


	13. Aqua vitae

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**Babling**

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**Warnings:** Blood! Violence! Bloody violence! Suggestive themes. And blood again!

**Betad by my wonderful Tora-Katana!**

**Betad over by my beloved and cherished Nimlinven!**

Sorry it took me this long…. Damn the papers and university! But here it is as soon as it's finished!

Hope the content redeems the delay!

'Dialogue'

"_Thoughts"_

...

**Chap 13**

**Aqua vitae**

'Cool,' said the Wishmaster leaning onto the doorframe. He folded his arms, amused. 'That dude made it through Hell sane and safe and sound and you just broke him down to nothing in fifteen seconds. That's some skill.'

Vergil kneeled down, enveloping the torn body in a tight embrace. Blood splashed out of the open wounds painting his cold skin red.

Dante's hand slid to the asphalt of the street and lay there motionless.

"_Did I? Oh please, I didn't mean to… Dante…"_

'Dante!' Vergil held his brother's thin frame with his one hand, stroking him on the cheek with the other, cuddling him close to his chest. 'Come back…It's not like you. Weren't you fine just a moment ago?'

A trembling tender caress on the cheek, like somebody's fingers touching lightly…

Tired. So tired.

Never knowing what you think, never knowing what you feel, I dance on the pitch black chessboard. D8, a black field of my own, I left it behind so long ago. I was going on blindly, waltzing into the unknown abyss. D3, this blank space where I stay now, a faceless trap. Whichever step I take will only be a mistake for you. D3-D2, I walk on, pushing aimlessly as my heart can't see you in this void no matter what. You don't want to be seen and you leave, yet I make my move to show you that I still want to do something for you. Even if I end up hurting you, even if I end up being hated by you, even if I end up devoured by you, I move on because this is all I have left.

D3, another black field. Anyone here? A pale face of the Ice prince, annoyance distorting his thin ivory lips and the steel cuts through, and I fall down. This pawn is out of the game.

I still can see you, a flash of snow in my empty world. Standing there, unreachable, ivory features and white hair combed back. Sorry.

I give up.

No more, I won't stand up. My eyes are dry, no more silent tears. My chest is empty, no more flutter of my heart. Let me drown.

I have been walking on this whole time, aiming pointlessly to reach you some day. But this abyss I fall into is endless and with every step I am only reaching deeper. No fooling around. No more.

Bars, the cold bars of my cage are still the same. No matter how I paint them red, white and gold, they are the same, holding me in this darkness where you left me.

I don't really blame you. I mean, who am I to judge you? I lost that right when I made mistakes of my own.

Fake smiles, fake happiness, fake light-heartedness. They are the perfect bars of my cage. I am inside, but you are supposed to see only the painted cover. Who am I to make you worry when you have so many things to be troubled about?

I somehow fuck up everything anyway. Look, this time I kinda protected you, but in the end you were angry. How does it end this way all the time?

I keep repeating the question, but can't find the answer. If I only knew you better.

You know, even now that I decided that I will give up…

Hah, you know what? Fuck it!

I am tired as Hell of this pain that rips through me whatever I do. I am tired of hurting myself – and you. I dreamt of disappearing from this world so that it would be easy for both of us. But now that I know that you can be a nice fella, maybe I should stay.

Just think about it, maybe if I stay a little longer, you will finally notice me and stay beside me. Maybe if I a stay a little longer, I will be able to change something. Maybe if I stay a little longer it could work out. Maybe… a small insufferable 'little longer'.

But… could you please tell me once in this bloody lifetime that you don't mind me staying?

You could just once say that all I do is not a wasted effort, couldn't you?

Or just say you don't need me so that I am sure…

Could you fucking say **something**?

'Dante,' a soft voice spoke to his ear. 'Hang in there…'

"_I so fucked up, please let him overcome it…"_ Vergil closed his eyes and buried his face in Dante's hair for a second. It held the smell of a storm and rain, even through the iron aroma of blood and the thick scent of cum. Dante was Dante, no matter what.

"_You are all worn out, a fragile vessel in my clumsy hands. A vessel for something inexplicable that pierces trough my entire being now. I don't know if this is some chemical reaction or if I really do feel every last bit of this complicated kaleidoscope of emotions. I don't care. All I know – it's you."_

For the first time in his life Vergil wanted to take care of another living creature, he tenderly kissed his brother's temple, a nervous peck on the abused skin. The taste on his lips startled Vergil, the exact rich taste as the:

'Medicine,' the older Sparda turned abruptly to face the Wishmaster, somehow sure that the omniscient demon would know the answer. 'Did he feed me his own blood in the hospital?'

'I 'sppose,' smirked Azazel. The interest in the twins was unmasked on his smug features.

Vergil was suddenly relieved. _"Then it should work," _he bit his lower lip deep and the viscous scarlet stream started leaking out.

Vergil held Dante's head, fingers cautiously in the dirty white locks; the azure eyes were looking at him, but they were lifeless, like that of the dead.

'Dante,' bruised half-parted lips of his brother's so very close. 'Come back. I need you…'

Vergil was afraid, but he closed the distance so little yet so significant, their lips touched and the hot red liquid flowed into Dante's mouth.

"_I need you,"_ his brother's voice echoed through his whole being, setting his veins aflame, striking his heart like an electric wave. Heat was streaming into his body from somewhere at his mouth, and Dante answered.

The dry lips brushed over his in a timid plea for more, and Vergil jerked, startled, his heart almost leaping out of the cage of his ribs. The tongue darted out and lapped at the small wound. Vergil groaned and bit his lip the second time, another streak flowing into Dante's mouth that fell ajar obediently.

"_Give it to me, give that elixir of life." _Dante's empty eyes closed, his tensed body relaxed despite the pain. _"Its metal taste is everything. Give it to me… I heard Verge call for me, so I need to go…"_

Vergil tried to breathe slowly, but it came out in uneven pants ghosting over his brother's abused skin. _"Dante…"_ His face was too close, the exact reflection of Vergil, his second half, yet another living being. So dear.

Dante reached up and drew out the blood forcefully, sucking on his brother's lower lip. The devil hunter's right hand, that didn't have muscles and flesh torn out, snaked over Vergil's shoulders, bare skin on bare skin, chain links clinking, and pushed the older Sparda lower, erasing every last bit of doubt that Vergil might have had, as if saying: 'All will be fine', easing his troubles. Dante's fingers groped for something to hold onto but finding nothing only slid over faint yet strong muscles, as if kneading his brother's back.

"_C'mere," _Vergil turned around and sat on the asphalt leaning onto the stone wall of Devil Never Cry, pulling his brother with him, not loosening his tight embrace one bit, palms over the wounds on Dante's back, closing the gaping holes.

Dante moaned and followed the heat, throwing his arms over the source of it. He did not care about such trivia as the cuffs, the chains and the wounds. Even though he knew he lacked quite a part of his body, the pain faded away, and so Dante sucked that viscous elixir.

The flexible and lean body was on top of Vergil, straddling him, jerking his head back by his hair to get better access to his mouth… Dante was alive. He was fine.

"_Fuck it…"_ Vergil grabbed the back of Dante's head and kissed him fully on the lips, tongue sliding into the hot cavern, the final attainment of the desirable making him moan wistfully. The taste of cum would be repulsive in itself, but it only made shame gnaw at the Dark Knight, reminding him of his weakness.

_Without might you can not protect anything…see, Vergil? We failed to protect him yet again._

'Dan-' Vergil tried to say, but his brother's lips stubbornly shut him, pulling his mouth open again. Sharpened fangs bit into his lip, then caught his tongue and scratched it in search for more blood and then Dante sucked sensually on the small wounds.

"_I need to stop all this… he's hurt…"_ Vergil was choking, his head spinning, but he just frowned and kissed on.

Through the haze of the bliss Dante realized he was kissing someone as if it was the last minute of his life. A scent kicked in, a light icy scent, cold and fresh. Like a freezing winter. White and beautiful. Calm and cruel.

"_Vergil?" _Dante opened his eyes with great difficulty. His brother's face very close, eyes closed in passionate concentration, his arms embracing the devil hunter. It **was **Vergil, and they **were** kissing.

A shiver shook Dante's body, sliding down his spine, making his member stir. The devil hunter quickly pushed back and looked at the older twin, bewildered, mind blank.

Vergil inhaled slowly and rested his forehead against Dante's, lips still parted, a thin white thread of saliva still connecting them. Blood was dripping from Vergil's swollen lower lip down his chin and left long stains on his chest. The older Sparda finally looked at Dante.

'Hey you moron,' he said, trying to smirk but failing remarkably. 'Did the last survivors of your brain cells go stricken by paralysis? Going unprepared to a place you know nothing about. Common sense is, of course, not more familiar to you than quantum electrodynamics but even you could have understood that somewhere called Hell is not a place to indulge into your favourite pastimes. It remains a mystery to me how you ended up returning, maybe they were too tired of you there and sent you back, but now that your bothersome presence is back, I guess I have no other choice than to fix everything. So, how are you feeling?'

'Peachy-creamy…' answered Dante, slightly shocked at his brother's ways of asking if he was ok.

'Hah,' Vergil laughed out and straightened up, the silver thread of saliva breaking as he licked his lips, only drawing more blood. 'I'd comment on exactly how creamy, if it wouldn't be so ill-mannered of me.' Vergil took his right hand off the wounds on Dante's back and wiped the cum from his little brother's cheek, leaving a bloody trace instead.

'You are as bitchy as ever, Verge,' Vergil's words made Dante feel more at ease, they almost brought him back to reality. 'Do you need a handkerchief?'

'What for?' Vergil was surprised, but he took great pleasure in talking now. It proved that Dante was back.

'Your venom is dripping,' laughed Dante, and wiped the blood off Vergil's chin with his thumb.

'Oh, but you better save it for your own flow of poison,' advised the older Sparda, then frowned immediately. 'Your wounds need to be treated immediately, hold on.'

'What-' but Dante didn't have the time to protest.

Vergil stood up awkwardly, still holding him, and Dante ended up with his hands on his brother's shoulders and his legs round his waist, practically sitting on Vergil's hands.

'Hey, gimme a sec-' the devil hunter tried again, but the magical effect of the elixir of life came to an end and he suddenly was very aware of all the bare bones, torn tissues and foreign objects in his body. 'Fuck!' he clung onto his brother and panted into his ear heavily. 'Whatever it was you fed me, I need more… shit… it fucking hurts…'

Vergil turned his head and kissed Dante instantly, to his greatest surprise. But as soon as the miraculous crimson liquid was on his lips, Dante forgot everything.

"_So it was true, then, at the hospital. It doesn't hurt… It's hot and rich and… tasty. Addictive. Is it because we are brothers? Must be. Demon blood, after all._

_I wonder who told him about the healing qualities of the blood…_

_So, that'__s what was happening. He scared me there, kissing and all that. Phew._

_Wait, am I kissing him now?"_

Dante realized he had his eyes closed again and his lips on Vergil's.

'Sorry,' he quickly drew back and wanted to take his arms away, too, but needed to hold onto something, so he stayed as he was. Vergil felt as the body in his embrace tensed.

'Hn. Don't think, it looks frightening on you. First, let's take you upstairs,' the older Sparda freed one hand and pressed Dante's body flat against himself. He finally drew away from the wall, the support without which he wasn't sure he could stand up right while kissing Dante, and went up the stairs.

The Wishmaster opened the door for him, walked into the unusually neat lobby and, bent in a respectful bow yet a smug smile in place, he held the door open as the twins finally entered Devil Never Cry.

Dorian let go of the tray with a teapot and three cups, smashing the porcelain successfully on the floor. He stood frozen near the entrance to the kitchen, his face blank.

'Holy shit!' Trish jerked up from reading a newspaper at Dante's desk, the chair falling behind her, when she saw the mess that was supposed to be Dante, as Vergil strode to the stairs, the broken body in his tight embrace.

A wide-eyed Lady turned around and stared at the shelves with the books, the glimpse of the devil hunter enough to send shivers of fright down her spine.

'Hey, you could have sent the girls away,' whined Dante on the way to the first floor. 'It's embarrassing, y'know.'

Paying him no attention, Vergil kicked the bedroom door open, strode past the black leather armchairs and carefully settled Dante on the bed. He rested the torn body on top of the white cotton-clad blanket, lay Dante's head on the pillows, put the thin arms at his sides, spreading the chains around, so that as little blood as possible was drawn out of the wounds. The chains fell down to the floor, clinking.

'Lay still and keep that pretty mouth of yours shut,' the older Sparda threatened the younger and turned back to the door to see the puffed Trish who followed them upstairs in utter shock and horror. 'Go find some basin and fill it with hot water. Leave it in the corridor and don't let anyone enter. I'll call you if you are needed.'

'Yes,' she said simply and rushed away. But since she saw that serious look of Vergil's eyes, she knew there was really nothing to worry about, even if it was hard to believe there wasn't.

'Crap,' Dante gasped for air as the anesthetic influence of his brother's blood started to wear out again.

'Here,' Vergil sat next to him and leaned in.

'Don't,' Dante turned his face away. _"That hurts even more somehow…" _'Try finding a syringe in the lower drawer of the desk…'

Vergil stood up from the bed, his face emotionless. He swallowed his pride, shut the pain after having his help rejected and tried as hard as he could to restrain his rage.

'Why do you have those?' quickly going to rummage through the drawer, Vergil frowned. He really found a couple of syringes there. As well as some strange pills. 'What, I ask you, is **that**?' the older Sparda spit out.

'That's from the time when…' the devil hunter stammered and looked away. 'Remember I told you about a person very dear to me whom I lost? Well, I gave in a couple of times then.'

'Oh,' Vergil was frozen at the desk and he was very thankful Dante could only see his back as it took him some time to get his upset emotions back under control. He was very angry and somehow bewildered. _"But it was just me… I'm still angry he fell as low as the drugs… am I to be blamed for that?"_

The chain clanging made Vergil turned. Dante was on the bed, knuckles white, one hand clutching at the ancient cast iron pattern of the bedhead, the other fisted in the now crimson-stained sheets. Dante's eyes were shut and teeth clenched, yet he was making no sound at all.

Vergil dove in and bent over Dante one knee on the bed, taking the pain-distorted face with his trembling hand, once again letting their lips connect. Who the hell needed syringes? The body under him gasped and drank the vital liquid from his lips.

It was starting again, the slow haze and the heat. Dante slowly relaxed, his right hand slipping powerlessly from the bedhead over to his brother's bare back, leaving more bloody traces on the skin. Vergil let himself sit down properly and smiled into the kiss, leaning onto his elbows that were on the pillows on both sides of Dante's head, as if protecting him.

Moving every now and then, Dante languidly licked at the wounds on his brother's lips. Then as the last shocks of pain were gone, his hand fell down onto the bed; he turned his head to the side, letting his dirty locks cover his eyes.

'I told you to take the syringe,' Dante whispered, his voice hoarse.

'Stop talking smart,' Vergil noticed the forgotten syringe in his hand, took the cap off and stuck the needle into his left forearm. _"Kissing him is intoxicating. I have to stop it soon or I will get addicted. He's so different from everything I'm used to believing in." _The dark liquid filled the small plastic container. 'Where do I put it?'

'Just into any wound,' Dante let the words drop from his mouth coldly. 'But I would appreciate it if you get it somewhere close to where I have bones open to air. It's getting on the nerves when there is no flesh at all, doncha know.'

'Your whole body is messed up, you should be ashamed. As a part of the Sparda family, you could have at least taken better care of the body our father gave you.' Vergil injected some blood into the torn muscles on Dante's left arm and the tissues started to regenerate immediately, intertwining, covering the bone, finally hiding under the skin.

"_He has become more like his true self."_ Dante noted to himself, fighting his desperation._ "How long before he is gone again? How long before I am left behind again?"_

Vergil laid his free hand on Dante's right thigh to keep it down and the blood slid through the needle and into the soft pained muscles of the devil hunter's, another wound closing up. Next were the ankles and the left calf, and with that the biggest wounds were treated.

'Hold onto me,' Vergil took Dante by the shoulder and moved him up a little so that he could do the last injection into a deep cut on the back side of Dante's neck. The devil hunter embraced him again obediently, this time with both hands.

The needle went in and the last big wound disappeared. At least, it would not get infected, even though the new tissues were tender and easy to break. Dante fell back to the pillows.

Vergil lingered, leaning onto his hand that still clutched the syringe, caressing Dante's neck with the other reassuringly. _"I didn't even realize I was touching him…"_ Vergil's gaze followed his own fingers as his hand slid down to Dante's chest and brushed against one of the dark hooks accidentally.

The body under Vergil's touch immediately came to life, playing a mesmerizing symphony. Dante gasped, his breath hitching, and threw his head back, his parted lips brushing past Vergil's. The strong body arched from the bed in an intense wave of pain and the nails dug into Vergil's back, scratching, drawing blood.

'Dante,' Vergil somehow made himself say, face cool and feelings under control, but so close to snapping. 'Those need to be taken out.'

'I know…' the devil hunter groaned through gritted teeth.

'You are hurting me this way. It would be better if you could be restrained.' _"What am I thinking?"_

'Do whatever you need…' Dante was past caring, the blinding pain dancing inside his body.

Vergil took Dante's arms carefully from his back, pulled the chains up and threw the metal links over the old bedhead, tying them firmly with several knots, the cuffs at the wrists fixing Dante's hands above his head.

'They are… hooked into the bones…' the devil hunter panted out. He needed much more of that anesthetic that was his brother's blood but he was not going to ask for it.

'I should call that doctor that was at the hospital. Where do you have his number?' Vergil was not sure he wanted to see Dante in that much pain. He knew it well, their bodies would endure much more pain than the bodies of humans, they would still be conscious when a human would be out cold, a self-preservation mechanism. His and Dante's body didn't have such.

'I don't care just tear it out.'

'But Dante…' _"It is one thing to fight him, one thing to stab him when he is healthy and able to fight back. But to hurt him so now when he is so vulnerable… he is my brother…"_

'Tis fine, Verge…' the voice was soft and somehow soothing. 'If it's you, it's fine. Do it. Quickly.'

The older Sparda chuckled bitterly, _"In the end, he is comforting me. How ridiculous. But… thanks. Your words mean a lot to me."_

'Get ready,' Vergil's fingers covered the skin around the wound to prevent the edges from being torn further. He grabbed the hook with his right hand. Vergil could feel the trembling of the tense body in front of him, taken to him through metal. 'You sure?'

'Just fucking do it,' Dante snapped, looking up at his brother. The same second he finished mouthing his little outburst Vergil pulled forcefully, blood splattered out, there was a series of dull cracks and the other tip of the metal hook came out with pieces of tissues and lungs.

'Aaahrgh!' roared Dante and curled up turning so that his abused side was hidden in the folds of the blanket. He pushed his legs closer and pulled at the wrist cuffs with such force that the cast iron curve of the bedhead bent a little. 'I fucking hurts so much! Fuck! Vergil!'

'Hang on,' Vergil whispered, dropped the hook to the floor and hugged the shuddering body. He pushed Dante's arm away and, biting at his own wounds, intentionally drawing out blood for his brother, he searched for Dante's lips.

"_Please, drink it! I don't want you to be this hurt. Don't reject it now. Just drink!"_

Eyes closed, tears leaving uneven trails down his cheeks, teeth clenched, Dante turned his face away.

Vergil wanted to cry.

He took Dante's face into his hands and forced the devil hunter to face his way.

'Dante,' Vergil's bitter voice cracked down to a pleading whisper. 'I don't care anymore. Please, look at me.'

'Verge?' his younger twin looked at him shyly.

'Please, drink my blood. I want to heal you. Please.'

Dante had never seen his brother so serious and so sad. He never saw him plead.

'Hey Verge, it's just me, don't get so worked up,' Dante tried to turn it to a joke, as he was somehow scared and didn't know how to act.

'Please,' insisted Vergil. _"Please, Dante. I'm scared of losing you. My pride and stupid things like that don't matter now. Just live."_

'When… when I blacked out…' Dante looked his brother in the eye. _"I bet everything on the answer you give me now…"_ 'Did you say something to me?'

'Come back. I need you,' Vergil said hoarsely, gazing at Dante intently. His heart was racing and his head hurt. Saying it out loud was very hard. 'That's what I said.'

'Hah,' Dante smiled, leaned up and brushed his lips over his brother's. 'Don't even think about it. I won't die. Just take that shit out of me. And then I want a bath.'

The whole world of worries crumbled down and Vergil let out the sigh he was holding and put his forehead against Dante's.

'With the freaking bubbles?'

'Yeah. A lot of stupid bubbles.' Dante laughed and wanted to do something but only tugged at his hands in the firm grip of the cuffs. 'Now, give me your blood but be careful. What will I do if you faint from blood loss?'

'Shut up already,' Vergil kissed him, the crimson elixir of life on Dante's tongue, dulling the pain as Vergil's hands took hold of the next hook.

"_Fifth out of six…" _Vergil tore the metal out of his brother's body, breaking another rib. Dante gasped against his lips and the wave of shock sent his chest off the bed up.

'Vergil, oh crap!' Dante fell down like a broken doll.

"_Better do it quick," _Vergil took the next one and tore it out without warning.

'Oh Hell, Vergil!' Dante screamed, open mouth sliding along the older Sparda's moist lips, mixing blood and saliva, as Dante threw his head back into the pillows, the force of his arms bending the iron of the bedhead even more.

Dante's white hair scattered on the blood-stained pillow. The smooth curve of Dante's neck was right in front of Vergil, the light skin that seemed hard when he was fighting the devil hunter before, now looked so easy to break. Dark bruises like ugly roses blossomed under the skin on his shoulders and chest; at many places their predator thorns broke through into long deep slashes and the blood was oozing out like tears of pain. The white dew of cum was now dry and stuck to the lively body like a slough that Dante hadn't shaken off yet.

It was there, the might and beauty, buried by reality only to break through one day, thousanfold more stunning.

'Morph ,Dante, my chrysalis,' Vergil breathed over his shoulder and jerked another hook out, this time from his left side.

'It so fucking hurts!' shouted Dante, thrashing, but his brother's tender hands pushed his body down firmly, palms flat against his collarbone and stomach.

"_Only two left," _Vergil frowned. _"And I can't do anything to help him. Feels worse than anything… Worse than that day…"_

'Vergil I wanna kill you, it so frigging hurts! You asshole you could have warned me! You bitch! Argh when I'm done I'm gonna kick your sorry ass big time you jerk! Just you wai-'

The older Sparda tore the next hook, yet another streak of blood flowing out of the gaping hole.

'Aaah – argh!' Dante whined, speechless.

'Dig in,' Vergil put his shoulder in front of his brother's face. 'Bite.'

Dante's eyes shimmered red and sharp fangs dove into flesh where Vergil's neck met shoulder. The devil hunter was drinking hungrily, the holes on his chest closing slowly, blood stopping.

"_The last one left,"_ Vergil winced and stroked his brother's dirty hair._ "It goes in under the heart."_

'Is your heart untouched?'

Dante stopped sucking blood out of Vergil's shoulder and turned to look at him, mouth all in red traces.

'Pull,' he only said.

Vergil obliged, but had to take the last hook out slowly not to harm the heart with the crunches of the bone. The rib started to crack and then broke – Dante groaned and his fangs went deep into Vergil's flesh. The metal got the lung, but was steadily getting out, finally its end appeared, muscle tissues caught on it, either to be torn or cut, no other way to take the hook out.

'Pull,' hummed Dante, and Vergil pulled with everything he got.

'Ve-e-erge' The cry echoed through Devil Never Cry, and Dante let his body fall down onto the scarlet-covered blanket. His wounds were as good as they could be, but his body overdid it, and his nerves were screaming, denying him the need to move his limbs. He was breathing heavily.

'Sorry,' Vergil said automatically and closed the last hole with his hand. 'I'll bandage you right away.'

'No need… It will be fine soon,' Dante lay straight on the bed, facing his brother.

'There is hot water to wash you.' Vergil took the dark cuff on Dante's wrist and tore the metal down, then the second cuff, freeing his brother's hands. Then he tore the ones on Dante's ankles. 'Let me at least do something…'

'Why didn't you take those off earlier you smartass?' Dante hugged himself, exhausted. It took him a lot of effort to just move his arms.

'I didn't have the power to do so. But now I just had to do it, so I did.' Vergil stood up and headed for the door.

'Verge!' Dante called out nervously.

'What? Lie still and be quiet, I will wash you,' the older Sparda sounded annoyed.

'If you want to do something for me, stay here. Or maybe you are too disgusted?' Dante was staring at the white ceiling. After speaking one of his greatest fears out loud he felt empty and cold. No physical pain could compare to the pain Vergil could bring him.

'Don't be ridiculous,' Vergil scolded and continued on his way to the door.

'Fuck,' Dante whispered. The silent hot tears started to roll. _"Then why did you go to the door and not back here? I should have kept quiet. I shouldn't have screamed… maybe I should have gone somewhere else first to patch myself up… Why do I mess everything up… I don't want to… it's not on purpose…"_

Vergil opened the door. As Trish promised, the basin with hot water was there. There were also two towels and a blanket and two pillows on a chair. _"How considerate. And on a chair so that it's not dirty." _He threw the towels over his clean shoulder and took the basin.

Closing the door behind him with his foot Vergil came back into the bedroom to see Dante frozen in an attempt to contain the sobbing that would be otherwise shaking his whole body. Vergil's hands let go of the basin and it fell to the floor, water flowing under the chair and the bed, the towels fell near it, soaked immediately.

'Are you hurt?' Vergil rushed to the bed and took Dante's cheeks, stroking, wiping the wet traces away. 'Are you hurting somewhere? Do you need more blood? Tell me.'

'Are you going to go away again now?' Dante asked weakly.

'Why? No, I'm here…' the older Sparda answered, bewildered. 'Is that what you thought?'

'Stay here?'

'Sure,' Vergil lay on the bed near his younger brother and welcomed the broken body into his embrace. 'Are you fine like this? The bed is soaked in blood and… aren't you cold?'

'I'm fine,' Dante's hands snaked around Vergil's waist. 'Your body will suck up my blood even from the sheets and the blanket. And I'm not cold if you stay here…'

'Okay, do you want to rest now?'

'Yeah, I want to sleep,' Dante pressed his face against Vergil's chest and closed his eyes. The mess in the room didn't bother him one bit. Nor did the mess that was his naked body.

'Verge?'

'Hm?'

'I love you.'

**...endo chap 13...**

Ooooh it was supposed to be cunning. And a bomb-like thing. Hope it worked. Heh

**Next coming: Vergil deals with desire. Dante deals with 'Vergil's brother'. Too good to be true! The start of a long NC evening! The obstacles are the twins themselves. The only way to peace is to give in, so will they?**

**Luna** welcome to my story! since you are not registered and i cant pm you, here is your welcome-cookie! hope you enjoy my stuff as much as i do)

Please, guys, give me your opinion on my work! It's really important for me! And it's easy – just push the review button below and type it in! No registration needed…

See ya!

Ethan


	14. No shining armor

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**Babling**

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**Warnings:** nudity and suggestions. UST! Horrible UST!

**Bated by Nimlinven! Kisses dear ans thanks!  
**

Took ma a long time I know! Too much studying and real life probs. Sorry T_T Hope you still are interested in my scribblings, guys!

'Dialogue'

"_Thoughts" _

"**Queen of Hearts"**

'**Cheshire Cat'**

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**Music – Aqua Timerz - **Sen No Yoru Wo Koete

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**Chap 14**

**No shining armor**

The strange dream, into which his reality had suddenly turned, did not want to end. It was shedding startling news on him without warning and whenever it wanted. Somehow, the mess he started when coming to the Human world became a blessing. He had this short period of time when he could drop all the acts and be just himself. Not remembering the hate, not knowing anything – it gave him a new start.

'I love you,' a hurt child in his hands said sincerely.

There was so much bullshit in their life. Too much pretending and too little trust.

But when the life of his brother was on the line… for the first time he realized all this time during their fighting he never believed, even for one tiny moment in time, that his brother could die. He knew, somewhere at the back of his mind, somewhere deep in his heart, that his brother would not die.

This time, it was different. It was not he himself who caused his brother to suffer. It was something else, something he could not control. Something that could really kill.

When the life of his brother was on the line, all the trumpery fell down, and he could clearly see it.

They were just two stubborn kids standing back to back, their eyes blinded by the reflections that were not even their own, but a childish play of words. Bound by emotions that they could not control, they stood alone, feeling the other but unable to reach the other's hand.

Those stupid illusions could be so easy to shatter. He wished he knew earlier.

'I love you,' made Vergil smile widely, like he never did since childhood. They drowned in their reminiscenting, thinking too much of the past, hurting each other in present. Forget all that.

They were alive and they were together. He could smile.

They were settled on the bloodied bed, in a nest of pillows, Dante's body naked and barely patched up, Vergil in a pair of old jeans. His black leather shoes lay by the leg of the old bed, near the hooks and chains. Chains were also still hanging down from the bent iron bedhead.

'Thank you,' Vergil whispered. He stroke Dante's hair. 'Are you too tired? Can you talk to me some?'

'What? Have you hit your head? You crazy?' the sleepy younger Sparda looked up, blowing the stray strands of his still dirty hair out of his face impatiently. It seemed that a minute of dozing switched him back to his speaking habits. 'I'm the freaking fucked-inside-out-way exhausted here, asshole. How even the talking-with-me crap idea overcame that trenches and fortifications that you call pride or something?'

'I'm just… happy?' Vergil laughed. Dante was Dante.

'What?' Dante hardly believed it was happening, the sound of his brother's genuine laughter too unexpected. What used to be only a practically non-existent shadow that rarely distorted Vergil's lips now grew strong and blossomed into a sincere smile. 'Verge?' Dante asked, apparently worried about his twin's mental stability.

'I'm fine. Better than you, anyways.' The older Sparda pinched Dante's cheek lightly. 'Oh. And I know you have been through a lot and you wanted to rest-…'

'Shut up. Just what do you want to know?' Dante pulled his body up a little, propped himself up on his elbow and rested his cheek against his palm for support.

'How did you survive?' Vergil stuck his arm under a pillow and lay down closer to Dante, holding him with his free hand by the waist. 'The Wishmaster briefly described Hell to me. How did you pull through? What about the eternal truth and the fears and loosing yourself in the overwhelming sense of the Universe?'

'Well, I didn't really think about that crap, Verge.' The devil hunter squinted at his brother cautiously. 'I was just thinking that you had been through much worse, so I just had to get over it. Besides, I was kinda afraid that you were gonna kick me real hard for doing something stupid and even more for screwing up in the end. Your possible wrath bothered me much more than the structure of the world, so I don't remember a thing of that eternal truth bullshit.'

'Even the course of time was frozen and there was plenty of time for discussion, but you just had to act rash and throw yourself into the Gate, you complete moron. You going to Hell indeed was perfect in its idiocy,' the older Sparda sighed. 'Hah, whatever, the Wishmaster was right.' Vergil rested his face against his brother's shoulder. He could clearly see the dark round holes below on Dante's chest that were left by the hooks. The wounds were closed, but still needed to be healed completely. It would take time. 'You were perfect. Only an idiot like you could go to a place like that and return sane and mostly healthy.'

'Only you jerk can make the word idiot sound like a compliment,' Dante complained half-heartedly. 'Who needs absolute truth anyway,' he tried to reason. 'It won't make me better, it won't make you better either. Someone will think of it one day anyway, so why the fuck did I need it? I didn't. I just… skipped it. '

'You are a frigging genius when it comes to absurdity,' Vergil's grip on Dante tightened.

'Oh, fuck off, you asked yourself. If you're gonna be so malicious about everything I tell you, I would be better off mute,' Dante pouted.

'Don't you fret, I'm just being reasonable,' Vergil justified himself poorly, silently cursing his disability to be honest with his brother.

'Yeah, as always,' chuckled Dante. 'Now that I think about it, it was kinda hard to return. But then again, I just thought I have to come back no matter what, 'cause you might have been waiting.'

'I was waiting,' Vergil admitted grudgingly, pushing Dante's body closer until his younger twin was flat against him. Thinking aloud rather than talking, he voiced: 'It scared me like nothing ever had. The vast void in my chest, freezing me inside out.'

'You felt it, too?' the devil hunter was surprised.

'You felt it as well?' Vergil frowned. _"He must have felt it when I was gone… All that time, it must have been horrible…"_His conscious bit hard into his heart and chewed on it sensually. _"Why didn't I feel anything when I went to the Demon world before the Temen-Bi-Gru incident?"_

'I guess it works for all the family members…' The small paradise that almost had Dante fooled in its unreal perfection fell down in pieces, and he asked, barely able to control his own voice: 'By the way, did you learn anything about your brother?'

'Yes,' Vergil smiled again. 'He might turn out to be a rather interesting man, way better than I thought of him. Surprisingly emotional and loyal.'

'Where did you hear that?' Dante did not know whether to be flattered of just flabbergasted.

'Not telling you, you damn nose-poker.' Vergil snickered._ "I won't tell you that I know everything. I want to stay like this some more. Together with you. Maybe finally learn what you really are."_

'Stingy…' Dante mumbled.

'Hm.' Vergil let it pass._ "As much as I am tired myself and as much as I appreciate the peaceful rest, still something needs to be done about the mess."_ 'Since I stayed with you some time, I would like to change the sheets and the blankets now if you don't mind. I hope you are done lying here stark naked and dirt-covered on the blood-ruined blanket.'

'You just have to spoil everything you neat freak,' Dante sniffed scornfully but let go of his brother's waist.

'Don't you call me a neat freak.' It was childish, Vergil mused, arguing about such trivia. 'It's not my fault that your tolerance to any mess by far exceeds that of anyone else, if is not all-embracing, and your sense of order is so close to non-existent that it can be called congenitally extinct.'

Strangely, Dante could not feel the usual bitterness in his brother's words, not even one note of scorn or mockery. So he spat back mechanically, very much out of sheer need for a reply:

'Fuck off, asshole!' And pushed his older brother away lightly.

An unfortunate coincidence, Vergil did not expect such a low act and was unprepared, pushed even by the small impact off the bed. He grabbed at the sheets, but it did not stop him from falling down; his shocked face swung before Dante and disappeared behind the edge of the bed together with arms and legs. Immediately a dull thud followed.

'I swear I'll kill you,' a murmur came from the floor and Vergil's hand snaked back onto the bloodied blanket, fingers sinking into the cloth predatorily. 'Tear off your brainless head and-…'

'Um, Verge… look, I'm sorry.' Dante hurried to apologize, 'You were not supposed to fall down. Aren't you always on guard?'

'I guess I'll have to be, with you around,' Vergil groused and rose up, an intimidating height, eyes dangerously narrow.

The small offended comment sliced through Dante worse than the recent pain. _"Did I just screw that rare chance when he let his guard down and let me close?"_

'Come here, blockhead,' a hand stretched out, grabbed Dante's hair and pulled up harshly, jerking him into sitting up. Vergil was joking with him._ "Thankfully, situation grave no more. Verge, you…"_

'That hurt, fucker!' the devil hunter whined a bit too theatrically and giggled inwardly at his brother's now wet jeans. _"Apparently, he fell into that puddle."_

'Consider this your extreme luck which providence had a foul whim to bring upon you that your body had been rendered unhealthy, you bloody dolt. Or you would be so very _dead_.' Vergil's lips pursed up into a thin line of difficultly contained murderous intent. 'Come. Here.'

Dante shut his eyes just in case, but nothing came, only his older brother's strong hands enveloped him and lifted him from the bed.

'Verge?' Dante cracked one eye open, throwing his arms on Vergil's shoulders, sitting on his brother's hands yet again that day. 'Sorry?'

'Shut up, idiot,' the older Sparda snickered and took the devil hunter to the bathroom, where he junked him carefully into the bathtub. 'Take a shower, stupid squid,' Vergil pulled the shower curtain close, leaving Dante somehow stunned sitting in the tub.

"_A spiteful game for two, right, Vergil?" _Dante smiled.

There was the sound of water running. Vergil brushed his hair back with his hand, calming himself down, and splashed barefoot through the puddle on the floor heading for the corridor in a hunt for new linen and blanket. All items acquired, he lazily kicked the door closed, threw the linen onto the closest black leather armchair, the blanket onto the other one, and kneeled down to the floor to wipe off the water with the already ruined towels that he dropped earlier.

The dirty wet towels flew into the sink through the open bathroom door. Vergil glanced at the curtain to check how Dante was doing.

The steam was slowly crawling from behind the shower curtain, a lean tall figure standing in the tub under a spray of water that rushed down on him from the shower head fixed on the wall, hands drawn up as he washed his hair slowly. Vergil let out a relieved snigger. _"So much for the damage Hell left on him, huh." _The older Sparda turned back to the bed to change the linen.

True, it seemed, the stains have shrunk and decreased in numbers quite a lot, which meant Vergil's body did suck his brother's blood in unconsciously. _"Well, at least that precious crimson wasn't all wasted,"_ the older Sparda finished preparing the fresh bed and grabbed the dirty linen from the floor. _"Where do I put the chains and the hooks though?"_

The chains and the hooks were settled into the sink to accompany the towels used to wipe the floor, while the dirty blanket, sheets and some of the pillows found their way right into the washing-machine along with Vergil's wet and stained jeans.

Vergil took hold of the edge of the shower curtain, on his way to the hot douche, but stopped abruptly. Behind the white curtain, the obstacle semi-transparent now because of the water drops, the pale silhouette could be seen.

Dante kneaded the back of his neck and his hands slid down along his slowly rising chest, careful not to touch the wounds accidentally. Then the devil hunter let his arms fall down powerlessly and threw his head back, water caressing his face and dribbling lower, taking away his exhaustion. Unable to tear his gaze off the chiselled profile Vergil watched, struck by sudden agitation, as Dante's lips parted, then the tongue came out to lick them painfully slow, then hid back into its hot confinement, but the lips fell ajar yet again to let the stray water drops slide down the thirst-dried throat.

Complaisant memory served Vergil with a vivid picture of Dante's body trembling under him, then arching off the bed up, those moist lips sliding past Vergil's, almost stealing an open-mouthed kiss from him.

"_If only it was not the pain that caused him to moan and thrash, but pleasure…" _immediately he was half-hard.

And here, I need to take a break.

Vergil let go of the shower curtain and stepped back, sitting down on the basket for the dirty clothes.

'**Look what we have here. You are in quite a mood.'**

Damn it all, why the Hell. Too long without any sexual activities must have affected me. Wanting to jump any body close enough.

'**Not true, not true. Didn't you have that crazy night action in the car just yesterday?'**

It must have been the leftover of what I felt for him when I didn't have a clue about us being related.

'**Wrong again. He told you that you were relatives. But you disregarded that fact easily as soon as you had him in your lap. You were kissing him under the rain like there was no tomorrow, remember?'**

Stop this. Don't give me that crap now!

'**Oh, but I'm just a cat that likes the facts. So I only tell you the truth.'**

"**Vergil, dear, as the Queen of your Heart I advise you to learn not to lie to yourself. It will only bring you pain."**

Shut up, all of you.

'**You want him, I tell you.'**

I'm just aroused. After a long hard day. It doesn't mean I'm attracted to him. It only means I need to lessen the tension.

'**Remember his half-lidded eyes that morning? The pretence and his hilarious struggle against you? He then surrendered to you and even stroked your cock. And in the car, too, those cold fingers, slick from the rain. You are totally aroused now, so don't argue. You want him now.'**

Stop it. Shut up. I need some sex. That's true. I had a Hell of a day. I need to relax. He is just the closest body. I'll need to take care of it myself.

'**Remember the feel of those broken lips, softened by blood?'**

Okay, let's say for some reason, the one I want now is him. Fine, let's say I admit it. …no fucking way.

First, it's Dante. The one I blamed for everything, the one I fight. The one…

'**Is that person behind the curtain really the one you hate?'**

No. Crap, no. He went to Hell, for me, not to let me be broken like he is now. I don't hate him. I hate my own weaknesses, but this man… he is hardly worthy of anything than respect and attention now.

It's all so complicated. He **is** my brother. I can't use him to unwind. It's… improper.

"**Proper? Don't joke, my dear boy. It's people who state what is proper and what is not. You don't feel guilty about it do you?"**

Guilty? I feel worse than a whore just being aroused now. Shameful and defeated by some carnal desire. Unworthy of a knight.

I do not want him. Truly. Seriously.

'**But you do, heh.'**

I am not supposed to even like him. That's just lust. Lust. Basically, there is no need for me to be ashamed. It's ordinary lust for an equally strong being. Normally I would have just had sex and forget it ever happened. But I can't. He **is** my brother. I can't use him to unwind. It's… improper.

'**Vergil, you have been to the demon world. You know what the rules there are like. Have sex with anyone as long as you want it. That's a fact, a true fact of reality.'**

Not every rule invented by demons is a good one. Humans did not think up their customs randomly. There is a deep meaning in the taboo of not touching your siblings.

'**Hm. But you have to decide for yourself. That's what I tell you, as the fact cat.'**

"**Yes, dear, listen to my fat cat."**

'**I'm not a fat cat! I'm a fact cat!'**

For me to decide.

"**Do you really care, Vergil? Look into your heart, stop lying. Do you really care about anything like rules and customs?"**

Honestly?

I don't give a damn as long as I get what I want.

Vergil looked at the silhouette behind the white shower curtain.

"_Lust or something else, doesn't matter anymore. As long as I get what I want," _he stood up from the basket, walked up to the bathtub and sneaked in.

Body still slightly too thin and skinny, yet a solid masterpiece of both power and weakness, wet white hair smooth and plastered down, Dante was standing there motionless, just a breath away, with his back to Vergil, too engulfed into the bliss of the relaxing hot water poring onto him to notice the other. He jerked up when a body was pressed against his back.

'What-?' Dante quickly looked over his shoulder to find his older brother standing behind him. 'Why are you here?'

'You are supposed to be tired, so I'll wash you. Besides, it seems you looked personally into me having blood all over myself.' Vergil embraced his brother, one hand on the waist level, the other across the devil hunter's chest, their bodies connected from shoulder to hip, heated by the water.

'What, you're gonna rub my back?' joked Dante.

'Yes, that as well,' Vergil nuzzled into the crook of his neck. 'Let me help you.'

'Dante,' Vergil's soft voice said quietly into the younger Sparda's ear, slightly louder that the sound of falling water, yet carrying the same liquid fluidity. His hands went tenderly roaming over Dante's skin and the devil hunter shuddered involuntary. 'I think I would really like having you for a brother.'

"_Staying alive was a marvelous idea,"_ Dante laughed out, relieved, and let his head fall back onto his older brother's shoulder.

'Me too,' the devil hunter whispered, laying his hand over Vergil's on his stomach and intertwining their fingers.

"_Oh. O-o-oh. Don't tell me that's…" _Dante's eyes opened wide in shock.

'Well, if you consider me a brother, this something ain't supposed to be poking at my thigh,' he warned.

'I wouldn't care even if you truly were my brother,' Vergil's lips burned on Dante's neck near his ear.

'Bullshit,' Dante jerked his hands free and turned around, angry. _"Well maybe you wouldn't care at all whom to fuck?"_

The flexible body in Vergil's embrace twirled, obviously going for a punch, but the older Sparda successfully caught both Dante's hands and pushed the devil hunter against the cool tiles, holding his hands against the wall.

'You are too weak to fight me now,' Vergil leaned in, his glare dark and razor-sharp, yet his voice not hostile at all, more like interested.

'Leggo,' Dante warned again, strangely noticing no unsettling feelings flooding in. _"I'm absolutely defenseless and I sense no danger. Crap. I trust him too much."_

'Hn,' Vergil did not deign his younger brother with an articulate answer and let go of him, reaching behind Dante for the small purple bath sponge. _"I already decided I want him. But simply overpowering him would be so boring. It would be meaningless. To make him mine, slowly and patiently… to conquer,"_ a shiver of excitement ran down Vergil's spine. _"Hm, I'm being too imaginative, it's just Dante, for fuck's sake."_

'Don't worry,' the older Sparda said calmly, covering the sponge with soap. He then threw the soap back to its place on the edge of the sink and bent the shower head so that the water spray kept his brother warm. 'I'll take care of you,' he finally reassured Dante.

'Okay. Y'know, it suits you, pretending to be a kitten while being a violent beast. But I don't care. I trust you,' Dante closed his eyes, splayed against the wall. _"Trust if you want to be trusted," _he would lie to himself if he said there was no fright in his heart.

The little revelation made the older twin's member stiffen. The sudden chance to be able to talk to his brother and to be by his side brought a whole lot of unpredictably erotic discoveries.

Vergil started with the shoulders and the neck, sliding the sponge lightly over the dirtied skin, a pure wish from the bottom of his heart - to clean the blood and cum off the body that was so cruelly abused. Most of the bruises had already disappeared from the pale skin, the cuts were not so deep, the little ones almost invisible now, but Vergil still tried to treat the wounds as tenderly as possible. The devil hunter still gritted his teeth when the dark marks on his chest were touched.

Vergil was very attentive, Dante noted, the pleasant pull of the sponge on his skin, massaging his chest, circling around his shoulders.

'Can you turn around?' Vergil's hand took his wrist. 'I need to wash your back.'

'Sure,' not even bothering to open his eyes to look at his brother, Dante let the older twin guide him and push him flat against the tiles of the bathroom. He sighed when the pleasant coolness met his right cheek, and spoke softly: 'The tiles are nice…'

'Enjoy, Dante,' Vergil soothed him, and the sponge continued it's playful voyage, slithering along Dante's neck to the back of his relaxed shoulders, lower to clean his shoulder-blades, to glide along every single rib lovingly, verifying every single vertebra down his spine.

'Ouch,' winced Dante when the sponge touched his tailbone.

'You fine?' Vergil's lips touched his cheek, his older brother stepping in to get closer, offering his body as a cover from any fear and memory that could trouble Dante. A hand slid down the devil hunter's left arm, easing the tension. Their fingers intertwined against Dante's hip, this time by Vergil's will.

'Yeah, mostly fine. I got… quite violated…'

'I know, Dante,' Vergil let the sponge fall down, his soap-covered right hand lay at the small of the devil hunter's back. 'I'll wash you, alright?'

'Just… yeah.' The devil hunter winced in advance.

'Push your hips back a little,' Vergil asked in a whisper and Dante complied silently.

The older Sparda frowned and let his hand glide down, slender fingers spreading Dante's buttocks slightly. His warm digits slowly pushed further, across the lashed up skin until they reached the broken ring of muscle. Dante grit his teeth and groaned as gentle fingers stretched the sore muscle, the middle finger diving in then out and letting the cold cum mixed with blood ooze out.

'I'm…' Vergil spoke but his voice was trembling. He was frightened, yet again struck by the realization of what Dante had to through. Vergil was just lucky that water was flowing down his cheeks; his eyes stung with tears of regret. 'I'm sorry, Dante, that you had to endure all that… I wish I could avenge you,' hollow fury made him clench his younger brother's left hand tighter.

The older Sparda took his now shaking fingers away from the devil hunter's injuries, pulling Dante off the tiled wall and against himself.

'Hold onto me, Day,' Vergil put his brother's hands around himself and pressed his forehead against Dante's. 'Scratch if you feel like it, let your nails dig in. But don't let go, Day.'

'Okay, Verge,' Dante nodded, eyes shut, more embarrassed by the strange nickname his older brother invented for him instantly than by the thought of what was to follow.

Vergil leaned up a little and kissed Dante's forehead. His hands once again pushed the younger's hips slightly back and went down, a warm digit finding it's way inside. The coldness dripped out onto Vergil's fingers and he desperately kissed Dante's forehead again, 'Are you cold inside there?'

'Yes,' the devil hunter tightened his grip on the older Sparda. 'I'm much better now anyway… but I'm all frozen inside…'

'Don't worry, I'll help you, Day,' Vergil pushed the second finger inside and stretched the opening delicately, trying not to push too hard. 'Speak to me, Day. Are you fine so far?'

'Could have been much worse…' snickered Dante through gritted teeth. 'It's humiliating.'

'Well, to me it's agonizingly intense and intimate,' confessed Vergil._ "Much more so, than any sex or any experience I ever had at all…Now that I remember… I'm still painfully hard. Hah, only you could make me forget __**that**__."_

"_Intense and intimate?"_ Dante's eyes snapped wide open. His brother's words pushed the flashes of the dreadful memories away, making a whole different reality show through. The spell Hell left on Dante was undone and the devil hunter was back to living in the present. Two slick digits entered inside him, cleaning him, a velvety warm friction of skin on skin. Excitement shot the devil hunter on the spot.

'Verge, it's- crap! – Ah!' Dante arched back, his whole body shaking, and sucked the air in greedily, in big gulps. He blushed profusely and hid his face on Vergil's neck at once.

'Did I hurt you?' Vergil's hand went up to hold the younger Sparda affectionately, fingers spread over the gently outlined muscles on Dante's back.

'No. No, you didn't,' the devil hunter answered. 'Rather, you kinda cured me of the memories.'

'But that's good, right?' Vergil frowned at himself. _"I hope he is not lying and I didn't hurt him really."_

'Yeah. Thanks,' Dante straightened up and pecked his older brother on the cheek. 'Finish up fast, please, I want to get it over with,' he voiced his request._ "You got me a whole new pile of problems, idiot."_

'Of course. We are almost done,' Vergil cursed again as the devil hunter's body was pressed to him and his erection was obvious against Dante's thing, but for some reason the younger decided not to comment, maybe too absorbed into analyzing his new view of the world. 'I need to wash your legs as well,' Vergil said quickly and pushed Dante away a little. 'Sit down.'

'Sure,' the devil hunter slipped down to sit on the edge of the bathtub, his back against the wall, too tired to move by himself. He frowned a little bit at the dull pain, but the hot water that glided along his skin and roamed over every corner of his body, even the hidden ones, had already warmed him up and let the abused body relax and start regenerating.

'Is it still painful?' Vergil kneeled, sitting down in front of Dante. _"I'm ridiculous, of course it is."_ 'Just stay seated like this.' The older Sparda took the forgotten sponge from the bottom of the bathtub and covered it with soap anew. 'Let me,' Vergil took Dante's left leg by the ankle and started washing his foot calmly.

"_Damn. My body is still aroused. And I can't even allow myself to hit on him. How ironic."_

"_Damn, I was thinking of hitting on him. On Dante, for everything that is sacred! To say ironic is to say nothing at all."_

The sponge slowly climbed higher, as did Vergil's grip. The strong fingers kept Dante's leg firmly by the back side of the knee, and as the devil hunter cracked an eye open to peek at his older brother, he saw Vergil lean down, his face close to where the sponge was circling, as if Vergil wanted to kiss his knee but stopped, uncertain. The older Sparda's hair was combed down by the water; he looked like an ancient warrior kneeling in front of his king.

"_You truly are a Knight, Vergil,"_ Dante felt proud. _"But I am not your King. I think I wish I cloud be, though."_

"…_Oh! Absolute crap,"_ the caresses on the devil hunter's oversensitive skin made him hot and _"Damn why now, I don't need it now!"_ bothered. Dante let his arms fall down, leaving his hands in front of him, for now successfully hiding his half-hard member. _"I don't know why the Hell Verge is up to it too, but I have a bad feeling about what he said earlier. It seemed that he wasn't joking when he said he could use me."_

Nothing happened, Vergil's face stayed mere centimeters away from his skin, only the soapy sponge climbed to the side of Dante's thing, then to the underside, then vanished. Vergil bent Dante's leg slightly and put Dante's foot to the side, placing it onto the edge of the bathtub where it met the wall.

"_Asshole don't you do this to me now! Posing as caring and all,"_ Dante cursed silently. _"I'm getting excited because of what the damned Hell did to me and now you just have to put my legs apart don't you! Fuck."_

'Give me the other one,' Vergil held out his hand, an absolutely oblivious expression on his face.

"_I'm screwed," _Dante lifted his right leg and let it be embraced by his older brother's tender fingers.

'I'm not a fucking Cinderella and you don't have a little glass slipper for me,' Dante grumbled. He was embarrassing but he was not letting his older twin see his confusion.

"_Demon bodies are so perfect,"_ the older Sparda's thoughts were clear as crystals and blunt as a whore's confession. His stare shot up from the skin his sponge was licking to Dante's slightly flustered face. The whole pale body was under the shower of thousands of naturally lewd water tongues trickling down. _"What could I wish for? Smooth and frail, yet so enduring. My own reflection, maybe the only one equal to me. So narcissistic. Yet so perfect. Sinfully perfect."_

'What?' Dante was uneasy under the stare, his inner sense hinting at an irreparable something coming his way.

"_It all seems unreal, too good to be true. I am afraid that I will want this fairy-tale to continue forever… I don't want to be hurt anymore... not by him when he learns… better now. I need to make him the Vergil I know. Just have the courage, fucking coward… Tell him the truth."_

'Look, Verge…' Dante swallowed nervously and pointlessly licked the water off his lips. 'I should have told you the first day. This is really important. This will probably change the whole way you look at me, but still-'

"_He is going to ruin my ideal cover-up!"_

'Don't,' Vergil instantly snaked up along the devil hunter's body, at his knees before the younger twin, and whispered at Dante's very lips. 'Don't. Say. A word.' And Vergil kissed him.

The devil hunter tried to push his older brother away, but his arms were too weak, a light push against Vergil's chest. Demanding warm mouth was stubbornly caressing Dante's lips, hot short contact smoothed by the water.

"_You are crazy. You don't know what you're trying to start. You are hurting me, Verge… All you do now is not true. If only you knew you would slay me. Vergil, stop, please!"_ In between the pecks at Dante's lips, there was a short break.

'Stop it-' Dante's poor attempt was crushed by an another impatient assault, Vergil's lips and tongue looking for entrance. Not getting what he wanted, the older Sparda grunted and took hold of Dante's neck with his both hands, leaving the devil hunter no way to escape.

'Shut up,' Vergil panted at him. 'Whatever you want to say will wait for tomorrow. Now, look at me.'

Dante faced his brother, two stubborn gazes met, yet both twins confused.

"_My self-control is reaching its limit. You are so broken it physically pains me, yet it makes your body impossibly tempting. Your madness makes you almost romantically psyco. Wounds suit you._

_But I am supposed to be the only one to hurt you! I won't tolerate any disobedience, don't' you know? I hate it that you were hurt. You are my brother. I know it already. But you are supposed to be strong; the only one more powerful, the only one to be able to offend you – is me._

_Something got to you before me. I am so angry now. So shut up and don't ruin this moment of my omnipotence."_

'Vergil, look, this needs to stop. Don't you have any shame? Where is the nobility of the Dark Knight? I'm wounded and you use force?' Dante was still scandalized. _"I need to get out, before it's too late! Forget the talk! So much for his "I'll help you"! I don't understand his mood shifts at all. Is he crazy really maybe?"_

'When it comes to you,' Vergil took Dante's hands from off his chest and smirked, 'I don't care what the means is as long as I get to you.'

'What?'

Vergil was at his mouth again, sucking at his lower lip, a soft and tender feeling. _"It's so stupid. He is so close yet everything is a house of cards. Get away from me! You don't even want me really!"_

'You don't even want me really!' Dante mumbled when Vergil let go of his mouth for a second. Apparently, the devil hunter never meant to say it aloud.

'Day?' The older Sparda called, unsure if he heard correctly.

'What? Get off me!' Everything in Dante's body was tensed like a string that had sang its high note and was ready to tear.

'Let it go,' Vergil kissed his shoulder and looked up at the devil hunter, a compassionate expression on his face, frowning with worry. 'Let it all go. Just enjoy.'

'Enjoy what?' Dante shouted. 'Get off me, you freak! You know nothing!' _"Don't cry Dante. It would be too pathetic."_

Vergil was taken aback and ashamed. He let go of Dante's hands and sat down. _"I never thought he could be… He knows I'm his brother. It really must be… After all, I am the corrupted one."_

'I'm sorry for being troublesome,' Vergil hardly could control his trembling voice. 'What was I thinking,' he rose up and turned around to get out of the tub. _"For once in my life I wanted to pay attention to him and take care of my little brother. But all I did was assault the broken man who trusted me and who had just been to Hell in my stead. I'm miserable."_

**...endo chap 14...**

I am very sad. Many of my old readers disappeared on me. So I am totally discouraged. And generally life sux.

**So erm. Yeah. No idea when I will be encouraged to continue. Don't feel like doing it if nobody's interested. Meh. Depression.**

**No 'coming next babbling'**

PS lazy bastards! *explodes* i frigging killed myself over this chap and wut? at least say, was it happy or sad, expected or not, believable or not! IC or ooc, intense or crappy! Wut you liked and wut you didnt. (yeah preferably a 200-word essay!) Dont frigging give me that one-liners! if thats supposed to encourage me you are sorely mistaken! Spend some of your ### time! I frigging spent more than 50 hours on the chap! I deserve at least 5 minutes of your time to write me some words! Argh *explodes on nuclear level*

Thank you guys who reacted to me immediately! You do mean a lot to me! Nope, I don't think I will give up this crap, maybe I will be just more lazy but lets see.

Well yeah i got really a lot of answers to this lil outburst. Thank you! let me jusfy my pathetic depression. It was my b-day on feb 17and it was awful! T_T so i was like omg I'm 21&absolutely useless! And generally, i usually can manage with about 5 reviews per chap but I'm getting the stats and i know how many people look through my work. And i was kinda thinking - is if fer real? Dont they read the text? Dont they want to tell me? Am i that inmpressive? and then i was TT^TT. Lets make a deal - at least once a year i want ALL of you to say i need to continue. otherwise - well my real life does suck and I'm kinda seeking solace here. and if i get nothing here as well - y'know, fuck it all...

you can tell me its bad to ask for reviews in such a way - but know what? i don't freaking care! I put so much into this bloody story that i deserve it!

PS Look! I got so many! I wasnt THAT difficult guys was it? Now, why don'tyou do this EVERY TIME? *evil dictator*

**pps WoW! okay... went working on chap 15...**

See ya!

Ethan


	15. Paradise lost and regained

...

**Babling**

...

**Warnings:** NC-content! Yaoish. (ain't telling you what exactly or it won't be that hawt)

**Can I be an even worse cockblock? (Ethan learned a new word) – I FRIGGING CAN! YES I DO! (in a good way this time)**

**Read in a light room, don't stay too close to the screen. Don't eat breakfast while reading. Or any other food for that matter. Choking warning! Nosebleed warning!**

^_^ yeah guys I'm here. You kinda… smashed me with those reviews… So I was like… ashamed. But you know it's your fault anyway! If you never say it, how am I supposed to guess you are there at all? Thankfully I saw some people that horrible day. I thank you dearly guys. Just remember when you stop dropping me your nice hellos I start thinking you are gone… for good… and I get sad. And you know what happens then.

So… here is a little atonement present for you. Like one and a half present.

**Betad by Tora-Katana, who even worked as a muse! Kiss you dear. I'll write something specially for you! And by the way some witty remarks at the end are your quotes) *gives daisies***

**Betad over by Nimlinven! What would i do without you? *throws a thousand roses and a thousand bishies at the feet of the god*  
**

'Dialogue'

"_Thoughts" _

...

**Chap 15**

**Paradise lost and regained**

"_No, please. I didn't mean to push you away. Verge…"_

Vergil turned around, but Dante had already seen his sharp glare, so raw.

The older Sparda moved the white shower curtain out of his way and stepped out of the tub.

There was a light touch at his back, a barely tangible caress of trembling fingers, only the tips brushing the skin. But Vergil went to take a towel from the hook on the white-tiled wall. The desperate touch was left behind, only a burning mark lingered, imprinted onto his back. _"Was it Dante trying to stop me? Was it my imagination?.." _Vergil wrapped the white towel around his hips.

Dante sat there, frozen, unmoving, his head down, hot water pushing the white hair and hiding his face with white wet locks. His hand was still reaching out, but there was only emptiness.

The dark fears that once were barely alive at the back of his mind came to life. Revived by Hell and strong like never before, they rose high and tightened their impenetrable wall around Dante, the sleek ropes of their tongues twirling around, swallowing him alive, bit by bit. Fears of being alone, fears of being left behind, fears of being the one at fault and the one to blame.

"_Please, come back… Do whatever you want, just don't leave me…" _from the edge of the bathtub Dante crumbled down to its bottom, a lifeless heap. He pushed his knees close to his chest and embraced them with his arms. The edge was uncomfortable against his shoulder and cheek. _"I don't care… hurt me or rape me. I thought I didn't want to be hurt anymore. But if I have to choose between loneliness and pain, I choose eternal suffering. Just don't leave me._

_You left me once after mother died. I thought I was alone on this whole planet. Abandoned by you, and guilty of her death._

_You left me the second time when you went to the demon world. You never explained anything to me. I never knew if you planned on coming back. I thought I would never see you again._

_I somehow lived through it all._

_Despite all the promises and desires, despite pride and humiliation, I won't be able... I won't survive you leaving me again. Will I?_

_I know you have no idea I'm your brother. You don't even know that every time you come onto me I realize clearly that it's wrong and impossible and twisted. Yet I surrender, just to see you a little happier. Maybe this time I should have surrendered, too._

_But I am afraid, that when you learn the truth, you will throw me away, just like trash._

_Not that I care about how low I fall. Not that I care about how disgusted you will be with me. I will take it all for you._

_But if you throw me away. If you leave me behind…"_

Opening the bathroom door, Vergil glanced back.

The small piece in the corner of the tub was Dante. So small. So vulnerable.

"_I shouldn't go near him now. I can hardly control myself. I decided that I want him, even if he is my brother. But for him, it might be impossible to embrace the thought of being with me._

_Well, considering how we treated each other before, it is not surprising. I shouldn't push him. Especially, I can't allow myself to snap when he had just gone to Hell." _Vergil went out of the bathroom, the door closing almost soundlessly behind him.

For a second, Vergil thought he heard quiet sobs.

But he didn't stop, walking confidently to the wardrobe to take some of Dante's spare clothes, then out of the bedroom and down the stairs to the ground floor.

...

Azazel was sitting at Dante's working place in the lobby, rocking on a chair, his bloody slippers on Dante's desk. His face wore a self-satisfied expression accompanied by a smug smirk. In front of him two women were standing, their hands on the other edge of the desk. From time to time, when they got angry either the short dark-haired young lady in white striped suit or the tall blond demon in black leather corset and tight trousers would hit the poor desk with their fist.

'Ain't telling,' sang Azazel again, ignoring all their questions about what happened to Dante. 'A~in't telling!'

From the staircase appeared a figure, barefoot, white hair wet, towel around the hips, neatly folded clean clothes in his hands.

'Vergil?' Trish strode hastily to him. 'How is Dante?'

'He is fine,' the older Sparda stopped in front of the door, leading to the back of the agency. 'And all of you, don't even think of going to Dante or I'll tear off your heads. …I know there are some rooms here with a bathroom. Trish,' he glared at the blond demon, not allowing any objections, 'you show me the way.'

'Okay,' Trish nodded, let him go in first and turned around. 'Lady, I'll make him talk. Take care of dinner, please. It's already midnight…'

'Alright,' Lady helplessly threw her hands into the air giving up her torturing the Wishmaster, looked into the kitchen where Dorian was making pork and pasta, and flopped onto the purple couch. 'Dinner is doing fine.'

'And,' Trish looked at Azazel distrustfully. 'Keep an eye on this scarecrow.'

'No problem,' Lady took Kalina Ann from the case on the low table in front of the couch and set on reloading it.

'Argh,' Azazel rolled his eyes. 'I'm here only to take the payment that is due.'

'Doesn't make you any less suspicious', Lady grumbled.

Trish left the lobby and went to catch up with Vergil.

In the narrow corridor lit only by sconces on the dark wooden walls the older son of Sparda saw four doors along each side, and was waiting for her to show him the right one.

'Here,' Trish opened the first door to the right, the hinges creaked, and they entered a small room with a curtained window, a bed and a chair. 'Usually it's me who lives here. You can use the shower, it's to the left.' Trish threw herself onto the bed and looked at the ceiling, the intricate patterns of the leaks still there.

Vergil entered the bathroom, in the whiteness of its tiles so similar to the one where he left Dante. He attentively closed the door behind him, not wanting to talk at all. There was no lock, but still. The clothes put onto the small stool, he threw the towel over them. Vergil needed to rest and think.

'How is Dante?' Trish's voice came peacefully from behind the door, still slightly worried.

'Fine. I took all the… chains off him,' the older Sparda shuddered involuntarily at the memory. There was no bathtub, but a small place behind a shower curtain. He started the water._ "I need to cool down and get my desires back under control. Wash myself quickly and go take care of Dante, this time calmly."_

'Why did you leave him there?' Trish continued.

'Had to,' Vergil threw at the door, irritated, and hid behind the shower curtain under the spray of water._ "Or I would have raped him. Luckily he threw that protest at me..."_

Vergil closed his eyes and tried to calm down. The task turned out to be a rather difficult one, since he was still painfully hard._ "I need to shower fast and go back there to bandage him up."_

Dante lay on the bed, body still in minor cuts and bruises. The white stripes of bandages lay tenderly onto the pale skin, greedily covering the perfect body. They circled around the ice-thin wrists and up further. Bandages covered the strong lean legs. The wide stripes threw themselves across Dante's chest, covering half of it, sinfully-innocently letting the other half be seen.

Vergil's tenacious fingers grabbed the bandages at Dante's wrists and pulled his brother's hands up. _"You won't be able to push me away. I want you. I want the you who was broken for me. The one who survived for me. Only for me."_

Vergil's palm lay flat against Dante's chest, the frantic beating of the heart tangible, heat pulsing. The hurt body arched into him, cherry moist lips falling open so close it would take a hilariously small effort to kiss them.

"_I want you to forget all the pain you had to suffer, I want you to dissolve into the pleasure I can give you."_

'Crap,' Vergil panted and opened his eyes fast. The white crack-webbed tiles of the bathroom at Trish's room were right in front of him. The mirage vanished but it felt like it was burnt into his mind.

'I need to do something about it…' the older Sparda mumbled to himself, saying the words aloud for stress.

"_Trish? She looks like mother, no way. Lady? She is too bitchy, if I have sex with her, she will poke me forever. Azazel? No, thank you. Dorian? I am not touching the man who raped me. Even if it might not have been willingly. Dante…"_

Behind the white curtain, they stood close to each other. Dante's hands around his neck, it was a little world of their own. Only the two of them. The water falling down on them, Vergil's hands sliding along Dante's newly regenerated skin, making the younger twin shiver and moan slightly.

'Whatever I don't care,' Vergil fell to his knees, one hand on the wall for support, the other closing up around his erect member.

'Oh,' he bit his lip lightly as he finally let himself stroke the hardness, long tempting pulls along the length.

As they stood in the shower together, he took Dante's hand and guided it lower, to where he wanted it. The cold fingers touched him carefully, stroking slowly at first, then more confidently. An exquisitely soft sensation, just like that time, in the car, under the rain…

'Hnnn,' Vergil let his head fall down. The movements of his hand grew more frantic, digits sliding fast along his member, the motion smoothed by the water, the thumb brushing the tip roughly. He was panting, gasping for air, desperately jerking off.

'Ah!' The Dante in his little daydream leaned closer to connect their mouths, a demanding kiss, tongues brushing against each other. Dante cautious, slightly nervous, yet unable to stop because of the pull of lust. Dante's free hand tangling in his hair, the kiss growing wild and aggressive.

'Dan- annh…' Vergil lost his support, his hand slid down the slick tiles, smacking onto the floor. He was sitting on his knees, struck down by the laziness and the weight of desire burning him, burning him worse than the hot water. Did he forget to turn the cold water on?

He pushed Dante against the wall, thrusting his knee between his younger brother's legs. They were flat against each other, their erections touching as well. _"Vergil,"_ the phantom Dante said, _"Don't… stop…"_

'Dan-te…-ah!' Vergil threw his head back, his wet hair pushed away immediately by the spray, opening the clear pleasure-simplified features of his face to the caresses of water. He shuddered, the white semen covered his trembling fingers and the floor, but the hot streams washed it away before Vergil was able to move again.

"_Unexpected,"_ Trish lay on the bed, eyes wide, pretty aware of what exactly was going on in her bathroom.

Vergil drank hungrily the hot water drops that fell into his open mouth. He couldn't deny himself the luxury of thinking of them whatever he wanted. The hot sweat from Dante's shoulder. Or the drops of Dante's cum, crawling onto his lips and inside the cavern of his mouth, down his throat.

Dante's existence suddenly made Vergil see many things he considered ugly and twisted as, on the contrary, rather appealing and desirable.

Dante had a strong influence on whoever came close to him. He was a marvellous human, attracting both humans and demons alike. He had the might hidden in him, so much of power, it was frightening. On top of it, Dante was oblivious of it all. If he ever learnt to use his abilities, he would probably surpass the Legendary Dark Knight.

Of course, Vergil wanted such a powerful man. Dante's will, Dante's trust, Dante's soul, Dante's body. Even if the rules of the Worlds prohibited it, Vergil wanted it – all, for himself.

"_I like him. The only side I have known for so long turned out to be a fake mask. And the glimpses of what he really is draw me in. I know so little of him, yet I like him._

_He is powerful, even if he is unaware._

_He is beautiful, even if he is my own reflection._

_Even more, wanting him sets me on fire and burns me with the desire for the forbidden. I could have never thought. Me, who had lived by the rules and the vows, who had never had selfish desires, I could never imagine the bliss of getting what I want._

_And knowing that the whole Human world disapproves only sharpens my senses."_

Several minutes passed and Vergil made himself stand up. He washed his hair and his body quickly and turned the water off.

Dante's jeans fit him perfectly, as always. Only this pair was black, which definitely suit him better. The shirt was silvery-grey, the silky soft material. When he was standing in front of the wardrobe in Dante's room, he saw several pullovers and t-shirts, but his habit of wearing shirts took over. Well, Vergil doubted Dante ever wore that multitude of shirts of any colour that could be found in his wardrobe, this might have been as well the first time the silky cloth met skin.

A tie – another habit. If he was going to stay in the Human world, he was going to play Prince. A punctilious, spick-and-span, unreachable, blue-blooded Prince. That is what he was, and no experience he had ever had in the Demon world could ruin that.

His hands tied the knot swiftly and he straightened up the thin white tie. _"Looking so difficult, yet so easy to undo. I wish the knot of misunderstandings that is our relationship was this easy to untie."_

Vergil carefully combed his wet hair back. Let it dry naturally.

He snatched the towel that he had used and opened the door to the room, still barefoot but not really caring since it was his domain… and he forgot his shoes at Dante's bedroom. He would stay here another five minutes, thinking over the events of the evening, then he would go to his younger brother and talk, choosing the words carefully. Being honest – he needed to gain Dante's trust. Then he would put Dante to bed, collect his forgotten shoes and think about dinner and plans for tomorrow. Or he would feed Dante his dinner if his twin would show any interest in food.

'Hope you enjoyed your bath,' Trish said from the bed, sitting up.

'You?' Vergil stopped abruptly. _"What is she doing here?"_ A quick glance around was enough for him to remember he was not in his private apartment but rather using Trish's bathroom.

'Apparently.' She seemed to have caught his train of thought. 'And I am lying in my own bed, waiting for you to finish fantasizing about Dante in my bathroom and tell me finally how he is doing. In detail,' Trish looked him straight in the eye, unconcealed animosity in her glare. _"What you want will hurt Dante beyond repair. I will not allow you to hit on him you twisted creature."_

Vergil coughed but remained outwardly unimpressed.

'There is nothing for you to know. He is fine. His body was cleaned and the major wounds closed up with the skin regenerated anew. I left him in the bathroom when he was washing away all the ' Vergil's hand clenched into a fist, nails almost drawing blood. _"Washing away blood and cum and dirt…I will kill someone for doing it to him."_ 'All the stains,' he finished droningly.

'The door is right here,' Trish waved her hand. 'There is no need for you to stay here if you are done. You should go choose a room where you will be sleeping tonight,' her eyes narrowed dangerously. 'Because I am not letting you stay in Dante's room anymore.'

"_Who does she think she is? I thought we came to an agreement after that incident. Alright, if you want a war for Dante, I'll give you war."_

'You bitch,' Vergil smirked and strode to the door confidently, 'don't even think that you can order me around. I bear with you only for his sake, if you have forgotten. I wouldn't mind crucifying you some more, or tearing your limbs off. Whenever you feel like settling this between us, you are welcome to come face me. And,' he stopped at the doorstep and turned around, a sly look her way. 'You mean nothing. It is Dante who decides where I will be and what I will be for him. And believe me I will specially look into it so that he decides everything the best possible way. For me, that is, of course.'

The door slammed behind him, Vergil headed to the lobby.

"_Fucking bitch, that brainless woman, does she not know what she is starting?"_ He was surprised and shocked by her arrogance. _"Outrageous." _Vergil fumed silently.

'Where is dinner?' The older Sparda stormed into the lobby. Lady and Dorian were having their pork, sitting on the couch, plates in their hands.

'Feel free fo shoin uf,' Lady said. She still had her disaster of a gun in her lap and was shooting glimpses at the Wishmaster. Azazel was still sitting at Dante's desk.

'Forget about him, Lady,' Vergil sighed. 'He is harmless. Just don't make any wishes,' the older Sparda grabbed the chair on which Azazel was sitting and successfully sent the Wishmaster flying to the floor. 'Don't you touch Dante's working place. Wishmaster or not…' _"I should go check on Dante…"_

'Okay, okay, I get it,' Azazel rubbed his hurt bottom and flopped onto the couch near Lady, a huge grin on his face. 'We wouldn't want to anger the Destined Devil, would we?' He happily stole a piece of pork from Lady's plate and swallowed it immediately, which earned him an elbow stuck painfully into his gut.

"_Destined Devil? Seems familiar. Maybe I read about it somewhere…"_ Vergil had a bad feeling.

'Holy crap. So this is why they hunt you,' Dorian threw his plate to the table. Obviously, he lost his appetite completely. 'This is why they wanted to wipe you away at the Gate.'

'What do you know, you, lowlife?' His presentiment proved justified, Vergil was suddenly in front of the blond demon, fisting his white t-shirt, pushing the guy from the couch into the air. 'What do you know about the demons at the Gate?'

'Hey, Highness,' yawned Azazel, 'Let the boy down. He didn't do anything wrong. He did what he could. Better sit down and listen to my story.'

'I have no time now,' groaned the older Sparda and threw the fear-struck demon to the floor. 'You better be ready with a detailed explanation for when I come back to the lobby,' Vergil threatened Dorian and turned to the Wishmaster. 'You, too. And remind me why in the world I still have the misfortune of seeing your ugly face?'

'I know about Caleb, too,' countered Azazel without stopping to chew on Lady's pork.

'Then you may stay. Lady,' Vergil addressed her mock-lovingly. 'Feel free to bring your oath to life if any of these two tries something suspicious or intends to flee. Feel free to shoot them very-very dead.'

Lady snickered and nodded. 'My pleasure.'

'Good. I need to see Dante.' Vergil headed to the staircase. Trish and those demons were screwing his nice evening after Dante's return. Moreover, he knew there was going to be a rather troublesome before-sleep fairy-tale. But even more, unconsciously, he was worried about Dante.

...

'May I?' Vergil knocked on Dante's door. There was the sound of slow steps, the doorknob turned and the door opened to show a disheveled devil hunter who must have had a battle with a dryer. Dante was stuck into unzipped old jeans, yet another old pair from an unknown storage of old worn-out on-the-verge-of-ripping-apart sky-blue jeans. Dante seemed tired and old. Older than his jeans even. His slightly reddened eyes were dull and his disinterested face looked like it belonged to a man rather than the young craze Vergil knew.

'Hey,' the younger Sparda sighed. He made a difficult step ahead and leaned over across the doorstep to rest his head in the crook of Vergil's neck. 'I thought you left.'

'I-… I wouldn't,' Vergil put his right hand across his brother's back and pushed him closer. _"I hate him. Why do all the sane and sensible ideas turn out to be the wrong ones when it comes to him? Oh, bother… It seems I hurt him unintentionally. Yet again."_

'Y'know, it was like everything from Hell revived and came crushing onto me again,' Dante complained, his hands snaking around Vergil's waist.

'I wonder if it is what I presume it is,' Vergil smirked, mood skyrocketing to bitchy happy, as he could feel something hard against his hip. _"To Hell with those tiresome idiots downstairs when I have such a treat in front of me."_

'Well,' Dante stuttered, 'I don't care what you do… You can even use me, as long as you stay…'

'No way,' Vergil turned and kissed his stupid brother's brainless head. 'Since it's pretty obvious even you couldn't leave Hell unscathed, I think I have an idea. And don't flatter yourself, you are not retarded and worthless enough to be used. I'd say you are refined just so that I could feast on you.'

'What the fuck is that crap supposed to mean?' Dante moved away a little and looked at his brother. Vergil's mini-speeches did bring him back to himself, as well as they made him feel like he had just eaten a whole lemon with hot pepper and mustard… and snails.

'Did my compliment make your face this distorted?' Vergil's hand lay on Dante's cheek.

'**That** was supposed to be a compliment? For fuck's sake, spare me,' the younger twin rolled his eyes.

'No, not today,' mused Vergil and tightening a string hold around Dante, lifted him from the floor and dragged the devil hunter to bed.

'Hey, at least close the frigging door you pervert!' Dante laughed. He was indeed somewhat put to ease by his older brother's 'compliment'.

'Let them see,' bullied Vergil. He settled Dante onto the pillows and sat at his side. The older Sparda had his hands, the devil hunter's digits crooked over Vergil's forefingers, the fingertips hidden on the older brother's palms. 'Like I condescend to care.'

Vergil looked into the azure eyes that were so much like his own and kissed the knuckle of Dante's left little finger.

'What the heck are you doing? I'm not some woman-' the comfortably recumbent Dante jerked up.

'You are not,' a cunning smile shone through Vergil's stern features and there was a mischievous glint in his eye. 'Women take it for granted, but you will appreciate the gesture,' and he kissed Dante's knuckles one by one, slowly, patiently, moving from the left hand to the right.

The devil hunter was bewildered. And he was not really trying to hide it. What he was desperately trying to hide, was a rapidly hardening erection, as Vergil's lips were leaving leisurely hot caresses on his skin, tongue appearing to smooth and moisten them after each kiss.

'There,' the older Sparda finished his self-imposed task and smiled cunningly. 'I see you are still vulnerable after your trip. I don't think you could take responsibility for your actions today, so I'll help you. I will be the one to take all the responsibilities, both – yours and mine.'

'Explain?' Dante quirked an eyebrow.

'You can stop thinking and I can go crazy,' with his right hand Vergil pulled off his – _"it's Dante's, but who cares?"_ – white tie in a swift motion, the knot he thought of before in the bathroom untying in a blink. He lightning-fast wound the piece of cloth twice around Dante's joined wrists and once across, between his palms, fixed it with a new knot and tied it to the iron bedhead.

'What in the bloody world-?'

'Shuddup,' Vergil swung himself onto the bed, straddled the shocked-out-of-his-mind Dante and kissed him on the lips. The devil hunter tried to mumble something, but it was only used by his older brother to slip into his mouth and caress Dante's tongue with his own.

Dante tried to fight, more of a reaction for a surprise attack, than a full-hearted resistance. He pulled unsuccessfully at the restraints and jerked to the side, which only made the kiss sloppier and inspired Vergil into experimentation. The older Sparda pulled back, until their lips were hardly touching and bit lightly on Dante's lower lip only to leave him again. His soft tongue outlined the shape of Dante's lips, slowly moving around, pulling the devil hunter's mouth ajar, but he still moved away. Small peck after small peck, Vergil connected their lips for an instant, immediately retreating, teasing and firing up the body under him. In a minute he let the poor writhing creature under him get some air.

'And here I thought by the beginning of action that you didn't like beating around the bush,' panted Dante, still somehow able to phrase meaningful sentences.

'Oh, but teasing is the best part, don't you agree?' Vergil's index finger lifted the devil hunter's face by the chin.

Dante looked at his imprisoner with kind half-lidded eyes. He was in no condition, neither mental nor physical, to put up any oppos-…ing? …ition. And it would be a lie to say he didn't like those selfish persistent lips. A little reddened by the kiss, glittering in the light of the lamp. The soft demanding tongue that hid behind… Dante looked all around and discovered a whole universe of desirable things.

The white hair still damp, stray strands were already falling down onto Vergil's forehead. His brows knit, the intense glare of the light blue – almost pure white crystal eyes with enormous abyss-dark pupils. The lines of his face, begging to be outlined by kisses, firmly broke into shoulders, muscles weaving into each other, a mesmerizing dance under the silky skin, so brutally hidden under the silver material of the shirt, so unnaturally confined into the rough cloth of the jeans.

'Uh,' Dante pulled forcefully at the restraints, wanting to grab Vergil's shirt and rip it off, but he only jerked slightly up. 'Asshole,' he spit out, and it occurred to him that there still was one action he could afford.

Dante lifted his head up as much as he could, opened his mouth with a breathy exhale, slowly let the tongue out and brushed, as he wouldn't reach further, along Vergil's lower lip.

"_Oh-… Oh!"_ Vergil sincerely hoped he did not blush at the contact, as his cheeks felt too hot and he knew instantly that his erection would be evident to Dante since it lay on the younger's stomach. Not that a very hard, by a mysterious reason still clothed, Dante's cock wasn't poking against his inner thigh.

Dante was smashed back down to the pillows, Vergil holding him down and pushing a deep kiss onto him.

"_It's not like when it was with the blood… It's so much hotter…" _Dante let his older twin lead, first letting Vergil explore his mouth, then tasting his brother when granted the entrance. Vergil's hands at his cheeks were forcing the younger twin's mouth wide open, and now the devil hunter was pulling at the restraints for real, irritated by his actions being limited to frantic kisses.

'Ah-… Ver-…' Dante was shuddering practically at every tender caress across his tongue, at the soft walls of his mouth. 'Oh!... Lemme-! You-oh!... Uh, whate… Mm…' It felt very intimate, like the inner places that were his own once, now belonged to Vergil. It was like… being taken.

In several minutes the older Sparda calmed down somehow and whispered, flustered and panting:

'I didn't know you could be such a shameless slut.'

'Fuck you, you beasty vermin! It was your morbid imagination which you have undoubtedly always rejoiced in that deigned to disarm me by the ingenious means of my own necktie!' Dante shouted angrily.

'Are you always so wordy in bed?' Smirked Vergil, pleasantly surprised by Dante's thesaurus-mode. He sat up right so that Dante's erection was against his own and started unbuttoning his shirt.

'What my behaviour is like when I have the time to be indulging in acts of pointless self-burning and fake passion is none of your dirty business,' Dante said the words, but his dark gaze followed every move of his brother's hands until Vergil reached the lower button and the silver-grey shirt fell down from the older Sparda's shoulders.

'What, you think we could have an oral spar now?' Vergil cheekily eyed his younger brother splayed under him, stood up and jumped off the bed easily. He leaned all along Dante's legs, grabbed the unzipped jeans firmly and in a smooth tug slid them off the devil hunter. The old jeans flew somewhere to the floor.

Like a cheetah Vergil crawled back onto the bed, strong arms pushing Dante's knees apart and sitting right in front of the erect darkened shaft that was throbbing lightly as the older twin was getting closer.

'I will win regardless,' Vergil let himself lie down, bent Dante's legs and pushed them further apart. His arms snaked under the devil hunter's knees and around to hold his hips. 'Just watch me,' Vergil whispered and licked along the underside of the hardness that was right before him.

**...endo chap 15...**

So erm. Yeah. Here is chap 15. I did it. I didn't die and I didn't give up, as I promised. Worship me now or something…

**No 'coming next babbling' this time cause I have no idea what will be there next. All the previous previews are still just. About the femdante as well. But I'm not there yet. Oh but 1 thing for sure, the guys will finish it on the bed, the stuff they started in this chap. No one will run away this time. Yeah. And you just stay horny and irritated for now. Or beg for more…**

Sorry I didn't reply to all the reviews like a usually do cause I had limited time and I decided to spend it on chap 15 instead. Hope you understand.

To all those who are not registered on Ff net and took your time to review – YOU ARE THE BEST! Thank you! (if any of you ARE registered, send me a pm so that I can reply to you if there is need.)

**Vergilsdarkqueen666 **here is a personal thank-you cherry-pie for you! You are my god for now. Where else could I possibly find a person stubborn enough to review every frigging chap? You are my blessing now! So yeah, thank you so much! You saved me that ugly day! Ps – don't forget to tell Dani I updated *hides*

BTW someone didn't like dante's nickname… Is it that bad? All the other variants are just horrible – like dan or dane or whatever… =_=' any other ideas?

To all the others – thanx for support! It does sadden me a lot if you disappear. You do know I update within 2 weeks no matter what don't you? And usually it's faster - in a week. So you know at least when to check… T_T don't leave me.

(And heck yeah, promote me as well! ahahahah)

Don't let me fall again into that shitty depression, guys. Pretty please? Review and tell me I'm crazy and sexy and marvellous.

[cause I fuckin AM! *self-persuasion*]

See ya. ^_^

Ethan


	16. Brother

...

**Babling**

...

**Warnings:** A LOT of SMEX! Loads. Blowjob and handjobX2.

Read carefully! Nozebleed and choking hazerd! You have been warned!

**Betad by Dani and Tora and Nimlinven *Worships the three graces*  
**

**And I must thak Tora separately for being my inspiration #1 and helping me with this chapter greatly! I love you for this darling! *kiss-kiss hug-hug!* Here are your photos from the filming of the chapter! Don't sell the copies, that's exclusive! *gives photos of Dante s***g Vergil***

Well, this chapter took an awful lot of time to do. BUT! This determined the quality, so see for yourself. I didn't delay it for nothing did i? *smirk*

'Dialogue'

"_Thoughts" _

...

**Chap 16**

**Brother**

Dante exhaled with a lot of effort seeing as his brother got closer, but a great fear unwound inside him. Vergil's wet tongue slid up the underside and reached the dark slick head of his twin's hard member, making Dante shudder at the blissful sensation, but at the same moment the horrid memories arose from the devil hunter's memory.

Dante's heel painfully hit his brother's back.

'What the-?' Vergil jerked up and looked at the other twin, who was in pure terror struggling to get the older Sparda off him. Dante kicked him back and off the bed despite the fact that Vergil had a firm hold on the devil hunter's hips.

'Uh,' Vergil was bewildered and didn't fight back, so he fell to the floor. _"Why, just __**why**__ does every time something like this happens? What - is wrong this time? I'm fed up with waiting! He was enjoying every move I made, what? – __**what**__ is wrong __**again**__?" _He turned and lay on his back, hiding his face with his hand, biting his lip, trying to calm down his anger.

'Dante-' the older twin tried to call peacefully, but was interrupted by a scared cry:

'Don't get close to me!'

"_What happened to him? Is he fine? I didn't hurt him, did I?" _Vergil quickly stood up and found Dante curled up on his side in the pillows, facing the bedhead and clutching at it nervously. Vergil held out his hand, 'Dante are you alright?'

'Don't!' The devil hunter would have definitely smacked his hand away if he hadn't his hands tied up. 'Why did you do it?'

'Do what?' Vergil straightened up and almost smashed his fist into the nearest wall in irritation but he held back. On the snow-white bed the naked body before him was small, trying to get into some safe corner, frightened. Tied by a thin tie, was Dante so weak that he couldn't even tear cloth?

'That…' The devil hunter looked away, then turned back to the older Sparda, glaring. 'Why did you start that horrible thing? It's disgusting! I don't ever want to see you trying to humiliate yourself like that again!'

'Oh.' Vergil finally realized what his brother was so troubled about and smiled. He walk around the bed from the right, pushed some of the pillows away and cleared some space in front of the bristled-up Dante. 'Can I talk to you about it?'

'Try,' murmured Dante, but jerked away as his brother sat down on the bed beside him.

'Look, I want you.' Sighed Vergil, looking tenderly at the broken man and caressed his cheek.

Dante was somehow disarmed by the confession, so he blinked and waited for Vergil to comment further. But the older twin smiled weakly and kissed him lightly, a slow brush on the lips.

'Dante.' Vergil took his brother's face in his hands and talked, thumbing his cheeks, staying so close that their breaths mingled. 'I do want you. And I know that now you don't mind. And what I started – that is not horrible at all. I am very sorry that you had to suffer through a lot when you were held captive by Caleb. I deeply regret not getting there earlier to stop them. But now, it's absolutely different. It can be very arousing when you do it willingly.' Vergil's hot breath made Dante want to tear his gaze from his brother's icy eyes to look at the reddened lips, that sometimes brushed across his as Vergil was saying the kind words. 'Let me do it. Okay?'

'Um, no…' Dante frowned._ "No matter what I am not letting you spoil everything with such crap! You will never do it! I won't allow. That horrible feeling…"_

'Stop remembering,' pressed Vergil. 'Look only at me now. Feel it,' his strong hands carefully pushed Dante's head back, making him close his eyes and open his mouth. The older Sparda climbed onto the bed, stood on his knees and drooped over the devil hunter, who was sitting down obediently. 'Hmmm. Do it again, Dante…' The haze of lust was finally clouding Vergil's consciousness.

'Do what?' Dante cracked an eye open and looked questionably at Vergil hovering over him. The older Sparda did not grant the devil hunter with an answer, but Vergil's lips parted and his tongue came out to seek Dante's.

'You little…' the younger twin panted and let his tongue out as well to kiss his brother open-mouthed. _"You do it so well – make me stop thinking…"_

Vergil moaned as they were kissing sloppily, Dante arching his back, pushing chest-to-chest close, still struggling with his hands being tied to the side.

'Just do what I say.' Vergil pulled back and grabbed Dante's legs by the ankles.

'No way!' the devil hunter kicked him right on the knees, successfully pushing the older Sparda off the bed.

'Stop kicking me off the bed already, you little bitch in heat!' Vergil shouted, rising up, clutching at the bed sheets angrily.

'What? If there is a bitch in heat here then it's you, you horny dickhead!' Dante shouted back. 'I am not letting you close to my cock anyway!'

'Why the heck not?' Vergil threw his hands in the air helplessly and started pacing.

'Because I don't want to let you feel the way I felt. So I'm doing it myself first, you idiot!' Dante roared, a disheveled explosion on the bed.

'Oh.' Vergil stopped dead in his tracks. He wanted both to smile and to cry.

'Yeah. Untie me.' Dante pouted to hide his embarrassment.

'No.' Vergil folded his arms. 'You don't cooperate.'

'Hey, I said I'll do it! So untie me!' the devil hunter pulled at the crumpled white tie for emphasis and looked at his brother expectantly.

'But you won't need your hands anyway…' Vergil mused.

'You frigging pervert!' Dante coughed out, but overcame it rather quickly. He sat straight in the messed up white nest of the bed and lifted his right elbow up, opening enough space for Vergil to get into his tie-tied embrace. 'Then drag your ass here this very second.'

'Oh.' The older Sparda was surprised, but could not allow himself to pass such an opportunity, so he climbed onto the bed – _"Yet again onto the bed! That damn uncivilized asshole!"_- and sneaked between Dante's tied hands that were at his waist level, placing his legs on either side of the younger Sparda. It was strangely comfortable to sit in his brother's involuntary embrace.

Dante snickered and sprawled down all along the bed, presenting Vergil with a nice overview of his bare back, ass and legs, which the devil hunter crossed and lay over the rumpled blanket. Dante grabbed at the iron of the bedhead for support and looked at his brother's black jeans button that was right in front of his face.

He could see clearly that Vergil was erect. _"It must be painful to stay like that. I wonder if I will be fine… Well, the best way to overcome a difficulty is to face it. And it's Vergil for fuck's sake. Well, he is my brother, but it was him who was all over me, so I guess he will live after it. Is it the same as when a girl sucks you off, I wonder? Heck, I have never done it, what if I'm terrible at it? Crap… What if he…"_

'So?' asked Vergil, his voice somewhat breathy, and wound a strand of Dante's white hair around his left forefinger.

'What? I can't open the button!' Dante retorted, swaying his head to the side away from his brother's hand, his hair falling over his eyes. _"Well, I guess I'll have to be damn lucky and a damn genius at improvising."_

'Of course you can,' Vergil said without any malice, smiling widely, and took Dante's long locks and brushed them back. His fingers stayed in the unruly hair, holding it up gently. _"Oh, may I not ruin it this time… I want him so much…"_

'Well, you said it.' Dante rolled his eyes, took the metal button into his mouth, bit it off Vergil's jeans, then spit it out to the side. _"To Hell with it, it's hit or miss."_

'I hope,' Vergil warned, 'that button is the only thing that is going to get such a treatment.'

'Don't worry I don't want you any more dysfunctional,' Dante smirked, tooking the slider between his teeth and pulling down.

'Oh, finally,' Vergil settled back against the bedhead and observed his brother with half-lidded eyes, letting waves of excitement that he had to surpass earlier wash over him.

Dante pulled the zipper. First the trail of short white hair appeared, then he reached the bulge and as the devil hunter undid his brother's jeans he was faced with the head of Vergil's hard member, slick from pre-cum, previously pushed to the body by the rough black fabric. As most of the older twin's cock was freed from the jeans, it stayed erect at Dante's cheek.

"_Well, we are supposed to have similar bodies, but oh. I wonder why he is so hard… I mean, it's fine since he doesn't get much sex anyway, but… I'm definitely not his idea of a turn-on, so… well, whatever…_

_It's not like he is using me, like them… Crap, that time in the cell…"_

The devil hunter was somehow surprised. It wasn't at all like in the cell. Here in the room the lamp on the table lit everything up. It wasn't frightening, but, rather, calmed him down. He could clearly see the small drops on the skin of Vergil's hardness, and as he looked up, Dante noticed the subtle dew of sweat that covered his brother's fine-muscled stomach and flat chest and the curve of his neck.

Dante's intent stare met Vergil's languid lecherous gaze.

"_Oh fuck! He is looking at me! I can't do it if he is looking! How am I supposed to… "_

Vergil saw Dante, and a shiver ran down his spine. He was once again with the person who once was everything for him. The dear feelings that were practically buried so deep inside the Dark Knight's heart, that he forgot they existed, now broke through and made him feel at home. For the first time he did not feel that any sex-connected action was a sin and dirtied his fallen soul even more. For the first time it felt like everything in the world was crystal-clear and pure, and it was comfortable being with Dante.

Dante was the first man Vergil was to face since his imprisonment. Wasn't he, the Dark Knight, supposed to be the one down there? Dante suffered for him, after all. But Vergil found himself too impressed by his brother's self-sacrifice to oppose him. That powerful man who tricked destiny more times that he could count and who got through Hell itself, - that man was now splayed before him. Ready to do everything for him.

"_You are too captivating…"_

'Dante,' Vergil panted wantonly and his hard member was throbbing against Dante's cheek from excitement. 'I want you now…'

It wasn't an order or a request. It was full-blown begging, and Dante felt his cock stiffen, pressed to the bed sheets. He wondered who in reality was bound and manipulated. But since Vergil pleaded to be touched, he would do it. With pleasure.

Dante leaned in and planted a kiss, then another a little lower on Vergil's navel, making the older twin sigh.

"_And here I am running again, beating around the bush,"_ Dante scolded himself and tried licking lightly at the underside of his brother's member, just as Vergil did to him. As the tip of his tongue slid up the already oversensitive member, Vergil shivered and his hold on Dante's hair tightened. When the devil hunter reached the head, Dante nervously gulped and tried kissing it first.

'Day.' Vergil exhaled and licked his suddenly dry lips. 'You don't need to push yourself, but fuck…'

Dante smiled._ "You wouldn't complain, I guess. Fuck it all." _He licked the head and took it into his mouth, a silky, slightly salty sensation. Slowly, the devil hunter worked his way down, like a series of kisses around Vergil's member, taking each time a little more.

'Ah! – Dante, ah…' The hot sensation burned Vergil's skin, the tender lips were slowly but steadily moving down his shaft, engulfing with every move a little more of his skin into the sensual captivity that made him tremble; little shocks of pleasure piercing his whole body as his brother's sneaky tongue touched his erect member.

'Fuck!-' The older Sparda was fighting very hard not to pull out Dante's hair and not to just push his cock down the devil hunter's throat, so instead he fisted the sheets with his right hand until his knuckles were white and fingers trembled from tension. 'Ah!- go on…'

At another suck-kiss Dante realized he couldn't take any more in. He had most of the length in his mouth, but he had no experience and decided it would do for now. The hot velvet-wrapped steel of his brother's on his tongue felt extremely arousing, and the desire to jerk off was unbearable, but his hands weren't free.

"_Now that it's not some demon, but Vergil…"_

Instead of thinking on, Dante just pulled back then sucked the hard cock again into his mouth, twirling his tongue around it.

'Mnnn,' Vergil moaned, and pushed the devil hunter's head down, setting a steady, slow rhythm._ "I'm afraid I will be hooked up on you… On that mouth of yours… On that tongue of yours…" _'Ungh!'

Sucking turned out to be fine. No, who was he kidding? Sucking Vergil was driving him nuts and Dante cursed the damn tie that held his hands yet again.

'Ah! Ah…' Vergil was breathing faster, almost every exhale a throaty moan, he gave up trying to control his actions and was guiding Dante with his left hand, gradually raising the speed.

The older Sparda glanced down at the devil hunter and he shuddered as excitement hit him with new force. Dante was sucking him, lips gleaming with saliva and pre-cum, drawing his cock into the hot cavern, a wet consuming sensation. His younger brother must have been trying his best, as his tongue caressed Vergil's dick, the exquisite intense touch driving Vergil mad.

'Day…'

Dante glanced up. Vergil met his gaze and drank hungrily the vision of his disheveled younger twin, white hair messed up, strong shoulders tense, arms tied, abused skin heated up; eyes dark, pupils dilated, lips around the cock and the elegant throat moved lightly when Dante swallowed on reflex.

'Oh, bloody Hell, Day, don't…' Vergil groaned, 'don't… stop… suck – Ah! – harder…' _"I'm addicted to you, completely…"_

'Hm,' replied Dante and wanted to laugh. Emotion- and passion-driven Vergil was a very impressive sight.

The older Sparda's body, that knew the training and the fight, was going through the experience of the same intensity, but the pleasure was overpowering Vergil and he thrashed. He let go of the sheet and covered his mouth with his hand, almost crying out loud.

'Day, oh crap – Ah! – faster… Ah! Please go – Oh, shit! – faster,' Vergil shut his eyes, he was gasping, mouth open, unable to get enough air. The licks of Dante's tongue and the wet heaven of his mouth made the older twin buck up, seeking more of the pleasure.

The devil hunter sucked the best he could, even though it proved to be rather difficult, with Vergil not holding back. Dante almost choked several times, and with his mouth full of cock it was very hard to remember to breathe. And his older brother was still asking for more. Finally Dante was tired, so he let Vergil do half of the job, obediently following the older twin's hand that lead him down Vergil's member, sliding it down Dante's throat and then back.

"_I swear I'll kill him,"_ Trish stood at the door step, frozen on the spot, fists shaking. Feeling suspicious after her short conversation with the older twin, she came upstairs to check on Dante. She didn't know she would witness Dante sucking his brother off.

The older twin was half-sitting on the bed, legs bent at the knees and pushed wide apart, the left one almost slipping off the bed; head thrown back, all messed up, tensed up body glittering with the sweat, the fast-rising chest bare, impatient hands between his legs… Vergil was now an absolute copy of Dante who was lying down naked, skin still carrying numerous bruises and scratches, his arms were embracing Vergil at the waist and he was busy as his head moved quickly up and down, guided by his brother's hand.

'Day, I'm-…' Vergil panted, 'Da…Ah! Dan-te!' He forgot everything and pushed his younger twin down forcefully, making the devil hunter have his brother's cock in his mouth as Vergil came.

The hot, salty, and sticky cum choked Dante, some spilling out. He coughed but couldn't let go of the member: he jerked up, but Vergil's hand was pushing him firmly down. The hot semen filled the devil hunter's mouth and he was absolutely oblivious as to what to do with it.

Vergil collapsed onto the pillows and relaxed, letting go of his brother's hair and his hand slid somewhat lovingly to the back of Dante's neck.

'For fuck's sake…' Vergil said with a lot of effort, and opened his eyes to look at his brother.

Dante carefully let the softened member slid out of his mouth, more of the cum dripping out, and looked at Vergil, puzzled but pleased at the mess he managed to put his older brother into.

'Day, spit it out.' Vergil frowned, remembering the first time he had to do the same things.

Dante swallowed what he had in his mouth, not bothering to wipe away the drops from his lips and chin, cleared his throat, swallowed again, and asked coarsely: 'Waddija say?'

'Stupid, I told you to spit it out! Oh, whatever now,' sighed Vergil. 'C'mere.' He helped his younger brother up, settling the devil hunter in his lap, Dante straddling him.

"_Dante, you," _Trish was shivering, her demon blood boiling. _"For everything sacred in this world, what did you just do? You know he is your brother, right? You were manipulated into this, especially after what happened to you… You were fooled, right? You are not yourself, you do not know what you do, right? I have sworn to take care of you and though I can't protect you from all the pain you bear, I swore that I would try my best not to let you get hurt…"_

Dante settled on his older brother, sneaking his arms up and onto Vergil's shoulders.

'Told you it's not that bad,' chuckled the older Sparda and took Dante's hard member to jerk it lightly several times.

'Hnn,' Dante didn't answer, a silent acceptance of the fact that he, too, liked pleasuring Vergil.

"_Why the fuck are you doing this? I don't want to find you tomorrow in a bathtub of blood, abandoned again! Leave this filthy creature that was once your brother! Leave him already; as much as you try to help him you always end up alone, broken and forgotten. Leave him behind already! I'll tear you out of his claws…" _Rage was building up in Trish's chest quickly. She made the first fast step inside, but stopped as the devil hunter talked.

'Did it at least feel good?' He felt somewhat awkward to ask his brother if he did okay, but he needed to know. Dante fell forward, resting his forehead against Vergil's.

"_Dante, you are not the one to bend to other's will, what does this monster do to you?" _Trish's firm hold on the door almost smashed the wood.

'You have the indecency to ask? I think I'm absolutely and unconditionally addicted,' Vergil connected their lips into a firm kiss, softly pushing Dante's mouth open with his tongue. The salty taste in the devil hunter's mouth made Vergil content and a little happy. The older Sparda pulled back and licked his lips. 'Cum tastes so much better in your mouth when I know it's mine.'

'Shut the fuck up, you perverted jerk!' Embarrassed, Dante started to shout back at his brother but ended up laughing, freely and easily, closing his eyes in joy._ "I shouldn't worry that much, really,"_ he laughed._ "Vergil is my brother, after all. I like him the way he is. And he isn't that bad. It's just that… it's so good to have him beside me."_

Bewildered and disarmed, Trish was rooted to the floor three steps away from the bed; it was the first time she heard Dante laugh so sincerely since Vergil disappeared into the Demon world. _"Well… as long as you are happy, I guess I can let you even fuck your own brother. I just hope he is nice to you…"_

'Hey, crazy,' Vergil called, smiling as well, infected by Dante's unreasonable happiness. 'You fine?'

'Better than ever,' Dante answered and embraced his brother, hiding his face in the crook of Vergil's neck.

The older twin hugged him back and noticed someone standing between the door and the bed. It was Trish and she appeared enraged but confused and surprised at the same time.

'You,' articulated Vergil not voicing his words as he didn't want Dante to notice the demon. The older twin's pupils filled with blood and became red; he slowly mouthed, every word crystal-clear: 'He. Is. **Mine.**'

"_Oh, fuck… Seems like I can't do anything anymore,"_ Trish sighed in defeat.

'Hurt him and you are dead,' she articulated back at Vergil.

The next second Dante's naked body shook and he moaned in pain, his head rising from Vergil's shoulder up, hands clutching at the bedhead.

'You asshole!' Trish soundlessly pointed at the older twin.

Vergil smirked, as he was holding his brother's cock quite too firm for it to be pleasant, his thumb caressing the head then going along the slit up and down.

The older Sparda let go of his brother's member and his hands lay on Dante's back. The devil hunter relaxed in Vergil's embrace with a soft exhale: 'Verge, more…'

"_Oh! I definitely don't want to see it…" _Trish rolled her eyes, turned around and strode out of the bedroom, silently closing the door behind her.

"_Oh, now that the presence of this woman is not disrupting my little meal, I can finally continue on feasting on my little brother who is quite a treat…"_

'Mmm,' Vergil's smirk widened as he let his hands slide up Dante's back to his shoulder-blades to push the tired muscles gently, then down along the devil hunter's spine. Vergil was very slow, taking his time, letting his fingers recount all the vertebrae until he reached Dante's ass and groped the younger twin's buttocks experimentally.

'Where the heck do you think you are touching?' grumbled Dante. 'I'm sure I want your hands elsewhere…'

"_It's delicious when you admit you want me to do it. Not like other times, pushing me away. Want me, Dante. Desire me."_

'Is that so?' Vergil whispered into his brother's ear and licked Dante's earlobe, then took it into his mouth and sucked on it. There it was, the smell of rain and storm.

'Hey, stop that…' Dante muttered. His hard cock lay against Vergil's stomach: unlike his older twin, he hadn't had his release and it was starting to be a torture.

'I am rather inclined not to,' the older Sparda unwillingly let go of his brother's ass and kneaded the devil hunter's back, mapping out all the angles and curves, unconsciously trying to remember all of them. 'Stop, that is.' Vergil's breath washed over Dante's ear again and then Vergil's teeth took the earlobe and pulled at it. _"I am not stopping until I have you for myself, at my mercy."_

'Un,' Dante bit his lip to keep silent, then gulped in a lot of air and slowly exhaled, trying to lesser his excitement, but every little move Vergil made, every little sound rolling off the older twin's tempting lips set his blood aflame, burned his skin and piqued his arousal._ "What the fuck is he doing? That's a cheap trick for chicks… isn't it?"_ 'What are you doing? It's not effective to do that to guys… Are you treating me like some girl again?'

'No,' Vergil frowned. He grabbed two full fists of Dante's unruly hair and jerked his younger brother back from his shoulder to be able to look Dante in the eye. 'I told you already, dumbass, I'm over girls. Not interested anymore. I'd rather jerk you off.'

His cheeks feeling impossibly hot, Dante blushed, eyes opening wide in surprise._ "I can't believe he said that… Crap, almost made me cum…"_ He realized what state he was in and quickly looked at the side, hiding his eyes. The white folds of the bed sheet near Vergil's thigh. _"Crap he is too attentive to me. Man, I'm used to be the center of attention, but the center of his hate not his lust… _

_He shouldn't be saying such things. Where is the rule-obedient tradition-driven conservative brother of mine? This is not helping out, it's not even fooling around. Verge, you getting too serious there, stop scaring me!_

_I mean, yeah, we had some incidents, but it was not serious, right? I just did it… well, I just went with the flow… Now, I needed to overcome that memory, and you helped me… but, come on, are you for real?_

_If you continue like this… I'm hard as it is, don't toy with me…"_

'Want to caress your hard cock with my own hands, until my muscles ache…' Vergil licked Dante's ear playfully and kept on his dark arousing whisper, the tender velvet voice wrapping around Dante and making him forget everything, except for the name of that owner of that lecherous voice that snaked under his skin like a poisonous snake. The desired poison, truly driving him mad.

'Verge…'

'…Stroke you with my very own fingers, touch the darkened head of your shaft, making it stir, spreading the pre-cum with the ball of my thumb…' The older Sparda palmed Dante's back lazily. He was basking in the pleasure of control, quite enjoying every change his lewd words inspired in Dante: the panting, the shivers, the bewildered gaze, the tugs at the tie that still held the younger brother's hands firmly fixed to the bedhead.

"_I could look at you forever, forever like this, helpless before me… I should tie you up more often…"_

Dante gulped and glanced up to look in his older brother's azure eyes, Vergil's big dark pupils staring at him.

"_You want to hear some more, brother dearest?"_ the older Sparda mused to himself. _"I'll give you some more, I'll drive you insane until you beg me. Until you want me so bad that no other will be good for you. I'll do everything for you, and I will be the one to have you for myself. Forever, my joker."_

'Want to lick along your member, along the slit. I bet you never got teased there, Dante…' Vergil's soft thin lips were whispering hotly and shamelessly.

"_Why didn't I know you could be so alluring, Verge? Oh, damn you, you are so hot… Saying all those things, stop giving my imagination such vivid materials for nightmares… Stop planting those words into my mind, stop violating me…"_

'Stop this… Verge…' Dante muttered.

It was too hot in the room, not enough air to breathe evenly. The devil hunter's mouth fell ajar, short gasps coming out, his lust-clouded gaze was jumping from Vergil's half-lidded eyes to his cherry lips that were emitting the whispers – the dirty whispers that made Dante's body tense up with every second, that made him curl his toes and jerk at the poor thin white tie.

'I don't care anymore… Kiss me … just… Verge…'

'You want that?' Vergil's eyes narrowed and he teasingly stroked Dante's lower lip with his tongue.

'Yeah… Verge, kiss me now.' Dante closed his eyes and pushed forward, chasing the disappearing sweet sensation, lips searching for contact. But Vergil smirked smugly and turned away. 'I want your tongue… Brother, just kiss me…'

"_Did I say something I was not supposed to? Whatever…"_

Vergil almost stopped for a second his modest caresses on Dante's back. The older Sparda enjoyed torturing the devil hunter, and he had to admit his own member was half-erect again, but the way Dante addressed him sent a shiver down Vergil's spine and made his cock stiffen considerably… just struck him with a new wave of arousal that made him painfully hard again.

"_Oh, getting perverted ,Dante? Calling me brother… So you do see as your brother? How… hm… Turns me on. Well, I wouldn't mind another round…"_

'Kiss you? Is that what you desire?' Vergil taunted.

'Hell, yes! Verge, touch me… I can't bear your teasing you know that… I never could…' Dante moaned as his older brother's fingers played with his hair, pulling at it roughly from time to time.

'You don't seem eager enough.' Retorted Vergil in an offended tone, trying hard to hide his snicker.

"_If you don't do something soon, I'll die…" _The devil hunter leaned to Vergil's ear and whispered hastily: 'I sucked you off, you jerkass! That counts as cooperating so shut up and touch me already…'

'Ah!' the older Sparda gasped as Dante's words pierced right through him, his cock twitching. _"So, now it's you who is speaking dirty? You are definitely going to make me cum again. You are a natural when it comes to turning tables, aren't you?" _Vergil moved a little as the magnificent naked body of Dante's, who was too hot to remember anything about the events of the recent days but unsatisfied enough to be able to form coherent sentences, that lean naked body was straddling him, and their members touched.

'Come on, brother…' Dante pleaded rather loud, impatience getting the better of him.

Among the heated whispers and sexy moans that came from behind the door, the word 'brother' suddenly came out very clear, said by Dante's needy voice.

"_Holy crap!"_ Trish closed her eyes and prepared to hear a lot of arguing and drama. She shrunk sadly in the chair, sitting in the corridor with her back to the bedroom door. _"Now it's starting! I knew it, it was bound to fall apart…_

_And I just wanted to wait for Dante here… let go of him already!.."_

'Touch you? No way, brother, dearest,' Vergil's low husky voice came, the want barely controlled, desire an evident thick stream in the slow strong flow of his words. 'I haven't finished telling you my little dreams about you…'

'Ah! – fuck, Verge… you'll make me cum…' Dante was trembling in Vergil's embrace. He was almost ready to end it all by just grinding into his older twin, but the last remnants of his stubbornness did not let him give up the crazy game his brother started.

'Sick fuck,' Trish snorted and stood up. 'You fucker knew Dante was your brother? Oh, my, what a wretched-up family. Well, whatever, I thought you would let Dante go once you've used him… but I bet you won't be done soon. Hm. Shall I go tell the others that our devil twins are too tired to get down for dinner?' The demon laughed out. 'It's good to know you brats are fine…' she told the wall and took the chair.

'Get out of here already you despicable woman,' Vergil snarled at the door, hearing the laugh. 'Get lost!'

The sound of high heels followed downstairs.

'You mean Trish was there?' Dante's head fell into the crook of Vergil's neck, then he turned right and bit at Vergil's earlobe. _"Revenge…I'll get my revenge on you, Vergil!" _'Make her go away. You are supposed to be taking care of me now! Touch me now, Verge.'

'She went downstairs finally. You didn't think I'll let some lowlife demon hear you come in my hands, did you?' Vergil frowned. 'I wouldn't have touched you. She wasn't gone.'

'Now, I promised you some stories from my fantasies,' the older Sparda relaxed completely as he was sure Trish was not around. 'Mm. I'd suck you, your hard dick in my mouth…' Vergil went on, hands falling down to Dante's hips. He stroked all the way to the devil hunter's knees, then grabbed the younger twin's legs firmly at the back of the knees and yanked him forward harshly.

'Ah!' Dante's obedient body leaned in with the pull, and Vergil sat up as well to bring himself chest-to-chest with his younger brother, trapping their cocks between their bodies.

'…I'd make you cum and suck you dry until not a little white drop of your cum is left on that perfect hardness of yours,' the older Sparda mumbled at Dante's lips, every move a sloppy brush, an accident kiss. His younger brother was sitting rather comfortably in Vergil's lap, his erect shaft against Vergil's member.

'Ver-gil…' Dante panted. 'Touch me for fuck's sake… I can feel you are hard against me. Just – stroke us together like that time, in the car…'

'I might consider it…' Vergil answered mock-seriously – he himself was as well on the verge of losing control and giving in to the pure lust and desire.

'Vergil, crap, and I shared a room with you for so long. If I knew you were this freaking mind-blowing fantastic sick fuck I would have let you do whatever you wanted a long time ago…' Dante kissed the older twin, a short peck on the lips. 'Touch me. Now.'

'Hm,' Vergil connected their lips and opened his mouth slightly as an invitation.

His younger twin moaned and immediately started kissing his older brother roughly, pushing past the warm lips to caress the inner walls of Vergil's mouth and to meet his sneaky hot tongue.

The older Sparda answered the kiss lazily, instead of acting himself enjoying the passionate kiss of Dante's. It stroked his vanity and turned him on, being feverishly kissed, being wanted to the point of madness.

'Verge…' Dante pulled back for a second only to let a short word fall from his lips. 'More…' He touched his brother's lips again. 'More…'

'Beg,' Vergil cut him off coldly.

'Vergil, come on, you asshole, give me more…' Dante angrily took Vergil's lower lip into his mouth and bit on the small wound from which he drank blood that evening. It seemed like that happened ages ago.

Vergil groaned and yanked Dante's head away. 'Are you going to behave or not?'

'No - ah! - way,' panted Dante and smirked, satisfied.

'Beg,' hissed Vergil darkly and his thumb pushed Dante's mouth open and slid inside. The devil hunter's eyes narrowed dangerously, the wet tongue touched the finger carefully, probing. Then the full cherry lips closed around Vergil's digit and Dante sucked, putting up a show. He let his tongue past his lips so that Vergil could see it and circled around the finger.

'You little bitch,' moaned Vergil and replaced his thumb with the index and middle fingers. Dante sucked obediently, deliberately trying hard to remind his brother of the experience he had not long ago.

'Hn,' Vergil brushed the little white stains off the younger twin's chin and put his hand away. 'Beg.'

'Verge…' Dante suffered out, desperation in his voice. He looked seriously at Vergil, somehow getting past the haze, his dark eyes clear and content. 'Fuck me.'

'Oh if I only could…' Vergil's patience snapped, his hands outlined Dante's ribs, then moved down his sides and the left one lay on his ass while the right closed around the devil hunter's cock and started moving.

'Ahhh, I thought I could kill you for this,' the devil hunter arched and threw his head back. 'Harder, come on, Verge, I waited too long…Ow-… you jerk, stop getting off on my pain…'

'But that is the core of my pleasure, dear brother…' Vergil smirked. 'However if you could take care of my own needs…'

'Okay, fine,' Dante roared and tore his hands off the bedhead without much problem, ripping the unlucky tie, then took them off Vergil and finally touched the older Sparda's hardness, intertwining his fingers to get a firm hold on the hot flesh, since his hands were still tied together at the wrists and he was too eager to finally touch his older brother to bother.

'Not so weak as you seem, huh?' asked Vergil sarcastically through a series of throaty moans.

'Well that's the best fun about you, Verge – to pretend to play by your rules and fuck them all up in the end. Ah, not so hard, it hurts you sick fuck!' Dante gasped in pain when Vergil gripped him too tight, but then the older twin's hand was stroking him gentle yet fast and he forgave Vergil everything that was wrong during the last several days they spent together.

'Someone told me that recently, but I like it more when you say it. Because whatever you say you still let me do everything I desire.' Vergil panted into Dante's ear. 'Speed up your clumsy motions, I'm going to cum soon and I want to do it together with you…'

'Stop complaining, it was you who tied me up!' unconsciously bucking up to meet Vergil's strong knowing fingers, Dante kissed his brother, feeling ready to lose all his senses every second now. 'I need you Verge. I need you, brother…'

'I know,' Vergil whispered back between the kisses as they were jerking each other off. 'I need you, too, Dante… Ah…'

Dante gasped and shuddered as with his older brother's words he was pushed to the edge and orgasm shook his whole body, the white semen covering Vergil's hand, some staining their stomachs, some spilling down. The soft sound rolled of his reddened lips: 'Verge…'

'Hn, Day…' a second later moaned Vergil into his shoulder and the hot seed painted Dante's fingers white. 'Ah…'

They stayed silent for a while, pressed together, trying to regain their breaths. Then Vergil bent forward and pulled the blanket cover closer and wiped the cum away with it, carefully cleaning their stomachs and cocks, trying not to irritate the sensitive skin.

'Why the heck are you ruining my blanket?' asked Dante, dizzy and exhausted, and trapped Vergil by throwing his tied hands around the older twin's neck.

"_Because I can not allow you to sleep while being dirty and I have absolutely no desire to stand up and go find a towel…"_

'You are tired and it has been a long day… Rest now, I will be your blanket.' Vergil embraced the devil hunter and fell down onto those pillows that were not pushed off the bed yet.

'Whatever you say, Verge,' Dante let go of his brother and settled down, letting his older twin hug him from behind.

'Give me your hands,' Dante brought his wrists close to his chest so that Vergil could reach them and the older Sparda untied the remains of the white tie quickly.

'Now, sleep,' Vergil threw the cloth away and pushed Dante flat against himself.

"_I didn't even zip up my jeans. Uh, Dante."_

'G'night,' the devil hunter yawned and relaxed, already falling into slumber.

'Good night, Dante,' Vergil kissed his twin's head and stayed like that, the soft white hair tickling his cheek, the smell of storm and strong rain barely perceptible. 'Sleep well, brother dear.'

**...endo chap 16...**

So here is chapter 16. Don't you think you all own me reviews and praise now that I gave birth to the whole chap of smex? And I even wasn't a cockblock till the end, I let them finish happily!

What about badass egoistic possessive control-freak Vergil? What about slutty Dante? You owe me big time for my hours and days of efforts! Hell yeah.

**Coming next: HARDCORE! I'm over with the pinkish fluffy part. Time for hardcore! Vergil wants to fuck Dante and takes measures. It backfires. Dramatic pause. Vergil in desperation. Dante bewildered and betrayed. Or not? The last self-destruction action of Dante's that I promised is coming!**

Here goes THANK YOU to every one who wrote me reviews to chap 15! Your words lit up my day, dears! I await your reaction with agitation every time and it's a holiday for me when I get another note! I love you all! Your 2 minutes of time to review means I will go on and spend hours on yaoi goodies, so please, your support is so very welcome. You don't want me to stop, do you?

As to Vergil calling Dante Day – I will not change that cause now it is plot-tied name that I will need further on)

PS I expect every one of you to write me back what were you feeling during the reading of this chap! So yeah, I want a lot of free self-service descriptions! Mmmm *awaits*

See ya. ^_^

Ethan


	17. Paved with their intentions

…

**Babling**

…

**Warnings:** a lil o' NC-17 content.

**Betad by Tora-Katana! My razor-sharp beta! Yammy-yammy =***

I almighty am still alive! F*** STUDYING AND WORK AND STUFF! Generally – FML! But I promised to survive – here i am! *fuming*

'Dialogue' "_Thoughts" _**Memories**

…

**Chap 17**

**Paved with their intentions**

_"A nice morning,"_ the older Sparda mused to himself, basking in the pleasant laziness. The sun made his skin warm, as did the body pressed tightly into him. _"Dante. That crazy idiot. Hn, made me come three times yesterday,"_ Vergil smiled unwillingly at the memory. _"Un-fucking-believable."_

He cracked an eye open and looked at his younger brother who had turned in his sleep and was now clinging to Vergil, hiding his face on Vergil's chest. The devil hunter's body was almost healed, the sharp edges and the barely-outlined muscles, not stained anymore by the bruises and scars.

_"Dante…" _It was the first time the older Sparda saw his brother. Saw Dante clearly, his eyesight finally back to him. _"I wish you were covered in the little marks I can give you."_

'Morning, brother dearest,' Vergil kissed Dante's head as a welcome to the new day. 'But I have to leave you now. The sun has risen and I have a lot to do. But you – you can rest for now.'

The older twin carefully slipped out of Dante's embrace and off the warm cozy bed.

'You little asshole,' he murmured and finally zipped up his black jeans. 'Made me sleep like that…'

Vergil grabbed the dirtied blanket cover, threw it into the washing-machine and found a new one on the shelf in the wardrobe. Then he slipped it on the blanket and threw it over the sleeping Dante.

The white tie was ruined, three crumpled thin pieces in Vergil's hands. The older twin's shy smile grew into a smug smirk at the memory of Dante's struggles and passion. _"I might save it,"_ Vergil thought to himself. _"To have a reminder of a very few moments of my life that are worth imprinting into my memory."_

'Verge…' mumbled Dante in his sleep and groped around but found nothing, so he locked his embrace over one of the white square pillows, face rather disappointed.

_"Or maybe I should just make some other memories that I would not want to leave behind." _The tie found its way into the garbage. _"Why bother with such trivia when I have Dante himself available?"_

The silky silver shirt was still safe, so Vergil happily put it on, tugged it into his low-rise jeans and went for the bathroom in a vain search of hair gel.

'See you later today, Dante.'

Trish yawned and went into the lobby. Dorian and the Wishmaster were clumsily piled up on the couch, since last night she and Lady had successfully prohibited them from entering the so-called guest-rooms of Devil Never Cry. A pile of two blonds.

Dorian seemed a nice young man so far. He could cook, was cleaning up every mess in the agency. He was tidy even despite his old worn-out jeans and teenage-looking t-shirt. Maybe they could really let him stay.

The Wishmaster, however, was too suspicious…. The bloody slippers carefully put down on the carpet. His blonde short hair a mess, now he slept, practically naked, dressed only in those short shorts. Trish quirked an eyebrow. _"Those are some nice abs. Hm. Light tan and trained body."_

'A-ah, whatever,' she yawned again and stretched her arms. It was several hours after the sunrise and no one ever woke up that early in Devil Never Cry. So she fixed her tight leather trousers, zipped up the black leather corset and entered the kitchen.

'I see you are up already,' said Vergil and glanced at her from his seat in a chair, tearing his stare off the old thick book lying on the kitchen table. At that very moment Trish was organizing her breasts inside the corset. 'Oh.'

'Didn't know you were up, too,' she said plainly and flopped into the chair at the other side of the table. Finally deciding her bosom was comfortable, Trish stretched her hand and closed Vergil's book right in front of his face. 'You owe me a talk.'

'Oh, do I?' Vergil smoothed his hair back, a habit of a gesture, folded his arms, crossed his legs and leaned into the chair.

'Since when did you know?' The demon frowned.

'What are you talking about?' Vergil asked back, his voice even.

'Stop fooling around, Vergil, and talk. I am the one who looks after Dante, so spill it. It's not like we have a war,' Trish had already decided she would get the answers to all the questions.

'Oh but we definitely do,' the older Sparda snatched the book from the table and in a fluid motion reopened it right where he was reading. 'You proclaimed war when you wanted to separate me from Dante. So stop bothering me.' He resumed his reading, elegant fingers stroking the dark green cover of the book lovingly.

'Oh.' Trish laughed out in surprise and went to the fridge to get some juice. She took out the last, half-empty pack of orange juice and poured some into two glasses. She then returned to the table and put one glass at Vergil's side.

'I thought,' Trish sipped some of the juice and turned to look at the older twin. 'You would be glad to hear of my capitulation.'

Vergil granted her with a glare and eyed the demon with doubt.

'Then I shall hear you out,' he closed the book on his knee, bookmarking the chapter with his finger.

'Come on, stop playing king of the Universe,' Trish rolled her eyes.

'So far, I have all rights to do so.' A self-satisfied smirk distorted Vergil's features into a haughty expression. 'I own something rather valuable now. Don't you think?'

'Will you ever stop treating Dante like some thing?' Trish made another gulp of the juice. It was refreshing. As was Vergil's tone – no real mockery, no irony. Just the smugness in its pure form. He sounded much better than when she met him before. So much more human.

'I do understand that you have a habit of assuming the worst when it comes to me, but please do be so kind not to twist my words. I wanted to say I have his trust,' Vergil stated nonchalantly.

'Oh,' Trish laughed. 'Okay. That's good to hear. But still, since when do you know?'

'Since when he went to Hell instead of me,' Vergil took the glass Trish brought him earlier and tried the juice. 'What can I do to make you stop meddling into my business?'

'I have sworn that I will protect Dante from as much pain as I can.' Trish glared at Vergil and he shivered, her fierce gaze too similar to the angry stare his mother once had. 'So I want to be sure that you won't leave Dante anymore, that you won't drag your sorry ass into another Underworld and that you won't get involved into something you can't manage. I want to be sure that I never – ever! – see Dante the way he was before you came here. Explain your intentions to me. Now.'

'Motherly talk?' Vergil said sarcastically, sipping the juice, but his hands were trembling slightly. The demon had been made the very exact copy of Eva, and now that he had no intent of killing her anymore, she looked too familiar, especially with her scolding him all the time for picking on Dante.

'Why the fuck no?' Trish grumbled angrily and glared at Vergil across the table. She put her glass down and grabbed his shirt, pushing the older Sparda closer. 'He doesn't have a mother, don't you know? But at least, you have always had a brother ready to help you and save you and – always ready to forgive you whatever sin you had committed. Unlike you, Vergil, Dante never had such a brother beside him.'

Vergil's icy eyes were looking at her, confused and surprised.

_"My joker… was always there for me."_

**Dante made a difficult step ahead and leaned over across the doorstep to rest his head in the crook of Vergil's neck: **_**I thought you left.**_

_"I wouldn't!"_ Vergil tried to convince him.

**'Here are the facts, dear boy. On the day of your mother's death, you ran away for several months, leaving your brother with the corpse. After returning, when you left the house in the morning you never ever told him if you were going to be back, and you could disappear for several weeks without any notion. Then, one day you left for the Underworld. No note or warning was left by you to inform your brother. When you met him at the tower of Temen-Ni-Gru, you jumped into the portal to the Demon world, refusing the hand he was offering. You said you were going to your father's home and that you were going to stay there. Next time you met your brother you let him think he killed you.'**

'I didn't mean that,' Vergil objected his inner voices.

'Your words are meaningless, Vergil.' Trish sighed. 'You already made all your moves. Your words are empty. No one would believe them.'

'Morning,' yawned Dorian and entered the kitchen. 'What are you doing so early? Kissing?'

'Hell no!' Trish threw the older Sparda back from her face and shrugged. 'I'd rather kiss Mundus.'

'Oh,' Vergil's eye twitched. He straightened up his clothes and put the book on the table. His peaceful morning reading time was apparently over. 'Do you hate me that much or are you not attracted by my looks?'

'What does it matter? I though you had your own object of desire,' Trish snorted, standing up and snatching her glass.

'If you hate me I can just chop you up, but if you are not turned on by my looks I can happily have a certain devil hunter for myself.'

'It is your brain that is the biggest turn-off in you, not your body.' Trish threw the empty glass into the sink and left the kitchen. 'But I won't be interested neither in you nor in Dante,' her voice came from the lobby. 'After all, I do feel like you are my sons. Now, I'm off to finish some business.'

'Wait,' Vergil strode into the lobby fast and caught the woman on the doorstep of Devil Never Cry. 'Was Dante lonely without me?' Trish saw his unmasked worry, looked at him seriously and confessed:

'He was freaking _dead._'

Dante woke up. The blanket lost sometime during his sleep, he was cold. He shivered but stayed on his side, right hand thrown ahead, reaching for somebody. But there was nothing before him. He slowly opened his eyes. Just the folds of the bed sheet and a couple of white pillows. Dante stared ahead blankly.

He never got used to it. Every time it was so sharp and so painful, a razor-clean wound in his chest. His fingers grabbed the indifferent cloth.

Dante hated mornings. Day after day, like a never-ending torture, if he could just live without sleep so the morning would never come and he never would have to wake up on the cold bed, alone.

His heart clenched in his chest, but was beating nonetheless. What could it do to the chill? Nothing. Only beat on.

'Somebody…' whispered Dante barely above whisper. 'Somebody…' It was just like the days after her death.

He would wake up alone in his bed and no matter how he tried to get some warmth, burying himself in the blanket, the chill was always there. It was a sickness that penetrated his body.

The big house was empty. There was no need to walk around to know that. The old webs were in the corners of the house, but the spiders died themselves, trapped by the stillness. Father's room, his cabinet with books and journals. Uneven rows of books buried by the thick icing of dust, their funeral shroud. Parents' bedroom… an empty chair with a book on it, grey pages stuck together. A dressing table with a lot of bottles, their rainbow colours faded away. An empty kitchen where the last crumbs were eaten by rats that, too, ran away from the dead place.

There was nothingness around. An empty shell that died from inside-out.

Vergil's room. His bed, that Dante carefully changed every day, the dark blue cover for it and the decorative pillows with golden embroidery that depicted lions and dragons. The chests of drawers, the book shelves that Dante thoroughly cleaned the dust off every day. The mahogany desk with an ink set and a porcelain cup for coffee. The stand for his sword.

As days passed, Dante's ritual stayed the same. He never knew how much time passed, but he would wander outside and steal some food, then prepare it in the kitchen and serve in the dining room, the table and the chairs the only dust-free objects in the room. Even the sunset on the canvas that was hung on the wall dulled and drowned in the grey lightless twilight. Dante would sit for several hours at the table, thinking that maybe he would come. Just maybe, that would be the day.

Vergil never came.

As the hands of the clock on the wall went around, nothing changed.

When it became dark Dante would slowly walk into his brother's room and patiently clean every corner of it until he didn't have the strength to move anymore. Then he would wander around the house pointlessly, delaying the moment he would have to go to sleep, but, too exhausted, he would return to his messy room and fall down onto the bed.

He would lay in silence, unaware of long heavy minutes passing. It would get darker and darker and soon everything in the room would lose its shape and the chill would strengthen and invade his heart once again, pushing cold slow tears to run down his cheeks. Dante would lay still, so very still, in hope that the time itself won't notice him, and only deep at night he would cry himself to sleep.

When the morning came, the huge freezing snake of the chill would be already coiling around, swallowing the whole house.

Dante would wake up, eat yesterday's food, steal some more and serve it in the dining room. There would be the clean fork and knife and the glass of fresh water. The white cotton napkin with hand-made embroidery, his brother's favourite, would be laid at the side – Vergil would like it. Then he would settle down, sitting straight because otherwise his brother would be disappointed, and freeze in time, listening very, very carefully, heart beating fast and painful in his chest.

Vergil didn't come.

Until that day when Dante himself had already become an empty shell that died from inside-out.

_Welcome,_ - Dante grinned at his brother. The mask of mirth was disgusting and heavy, burning and breaking him further.

_I hate you,_ - Vergil's even voice stated. Dante's heart fell and the shell broke as well, fell down in salty and cold pieces.

_I hate you,_ - a new morning greeted Dante and welcomed him into a new day.

'Somebody…' he whispered, but there was no one in front of him to reach out to. Vergil, the last sparkle of life, left him as well.

Dante listened to the silence for several minutes and sat up. The blanket slid to the floor, but he didn't care. He found some pair of jeans in the wardrobe and an old overstretched emerald-green sweater. Without washing his face or looking into the mirror, he stumbled out of his room in search of alcohol that hopefully would dull the void in his heart and its unbearable cries that tore his soul apart.

He was dead inside. But it was still painful.

All Dante wanted was to become numb and forget. He wished for oblivion.

_"Okay, none of my business, I'm not butting in,"_ Dorian convinced himself as Trish and Vergil argued, then both went out of the kitchen. He took off his white t-shirt and put it onto one of the chairs, careful not to use the one where Vergil had been sitting. The demon took all the dishes and cups that had piled up near the sink, and turned the water on. Whistling some joyful song, he started washing. _"Then that means that the artificial demon, Trish, treats them like mother. Heh, who could have thought._

_Yesterday, Dante obviously went through Hell. That can be the only reason Wishmaster himself came to greet him. However, it does not explain the fact why Azazel is still sleeping there on the couch. He saw Dante yesterday… Well, Vergil did hide Dante from everyone last night, almost ridiculously possessively so._

_What is Dante anyway? He has the exact appearance of the Dark Knight. Like brothers. But Vergil is the only true descendant of Sparda…"_

'Um,' Dorian stepped back from the sink to look at the Dark Knight who was still frozen on the doorstep on Devil Never Cry. 'Can I ask you a question?'

'What is it?' Vergil said evenly without looking back.

_"Is the devil hunter a copy that was wished for by Vergil?" _Dorian pondered. The answer worried him greatly, because if Dante was no real person, he, Dorian, would have to serve Vergil, not the owner of the agency. "_Then the Dark Knight would be the one who should have paid for the copy. Or maybe he makes wishes the same way Caleb does: makes a wish and forces the desire of going to Hell instead of the Master onto one of his puppets? Does it mean Dante went through Hell as a payment for his own existence?"_ Dorian was absolutely not pleased by the need to serve a master who saw his servants as consumables. Having experienced it already, that is.

'Is that devil hunter a replica of yours, maybe?' Dorian finally asked.

'What?' Vergil turned around and in several fast strides the older Sparda was in the kitchen, right in front of the demon, apparently enraged. 'He is my fucking brother! He is my younger brother and you – you watch your mouth you lowlife fool! Or I might cut out that filthy tongue of yours!'

'Yes… sir.' Dorian stepped back and almost unconsciously protected himself with a plate.

'Never ever call him anything but my brother!' it took Vergil all of his willpower to hold his fist down. 'I think I should go wake up our unwanted guest now,' the older Sparda said darkly and went to the lobby.

Dorian resumed his dish-washing, pretty aware of the gloomy aura behind him.

_'As scary as ever, Vergil, huh. Still, there is no need for such a powerful demon as the Wishmaster to stay here, right?"_

'Hn,' Vergil was towering over Azazel who was sleeping peacefully on the purple coach. 'Wake up, you demon, I want some answers right now!'

'Fuck off,' mumbled the Wishmaster and turned his back to Vergil, drowning in the blissful morning slumber. Hands in his pockets, Vergil let out a contemptuous leer at Azazel and kicked him unceremoniously, but earned only a growl and a new portion of neglect.

'What are you doing here, asshole? Get out,' a coarse angry voice ordered Dorian and he almost let go of the soaped dish. Someone grabbed his shoulder and pushed him away roughly.

'What?' the demon stumbled to the side and saw a rug-like Dante, whom no one had noticed lazily stumbling into the kitchen and who was now reaching out for a bottle of whiskey that stood on the shelves. _"Ever a calm minute in the messed-up agency?"_

'Dante?' Vergil let go of the Wishmaster, abandoning all hope of waking up the impudent demon on the purple couch, and hurried to the kitchen.

'Whoa,' the devil hunter turned around, saw his older brother and immediately took the bottle off his lips. 'Check this out! I'm hallucinating.'

'What the heck happened to you?' Vergil was stunned. From the doorstep he looked at his younger brother, who was still sleepy, dark circles under his eyes, white hair a mess again, sticking in all directions, his lazy gestures clumsy, his wavering gait leading Dante to plop onto a chair as he could not support the weight of his body for much longer.

'Check this out,' Dante laughed nervously and took a gulp of whiskey. 'I think I'm getting hallucinations.' _"Though I have to admit, he looks stunning as always. All chic and refined, huh. Black jeans, my silver shirt, mm. How does he manage to be so impressive when he has the same body as me?.. Whatever, stop enjoying the play of your morbid imagination, Dante. Get real, nothing changed…"_

'Dante, wake up, you dolt,' Vergil angrily hit the back of the devil hunter's head. 'Give me this obnoxious thing,' The Dark Knight snatched the bottle from Dante's hand and put it back onto the shelf.

'Verge?' Dante asked, eyeing his older brother with suspicion. _"Too fucking real…"_

'Listen,' Vergil patiently went to the fridge, found a bottle of water for Dante, poured some into a glass and shoved it into the devil hunter's hands. Then threw Dorian's shirt into the lobby to free the chair for himself and shoved Dorian out himself right after to free the kitchen for a conversation.

'Yesterday must have been an impact on whatever you have for a brain.' The older Sparda closed the door and sat opposite Dante. 'You listening?'

The devil hunter spilled his wretched self over the table and sipped the water lazily since he was deprived of anything more spirit-containing.

Vergil sighed, leaned at the back of the chair, crossed his slender legs and folded his hands over the knee.

'Four days ago I came to the Human world where you found me in a hospital. You practically saved my life by giving me your blood. Then you decided to help me, took me to Devil Never Cry and made me drink a potion to quicken my healing. That night after I lost conscience you went out and never came back.

The next day when I woke up I found out that you were kidnapped in my place and together with Lady I went to rescue you. We barely made it, but still... you shot yourself there, in the cell. I brought you back to Devil Never Cry and looked after you while you were recovering.

The next day you woke up, it was the third day after I came to the Human world. Even though I didn't want you to leave the bed, Trish sent us out. It looked like a harmless mission that could give us some clues and we drove in the direction of Oberon. You slept through most of the way and woke up in the evening when I found us a cheap room in a hotel. Unfortunately, you messed everything up and we fled. Which left the only way for us – to sleep the night in the car under the horrible downpour.

On the fourth day, when I woke up you already brought us into the town of Oberon. That was yesterday. Oberon was full of demons and we tried to close the Hellgate. You ended up going to Hell as the price for closing it. As the Wishmaster had told me, I awaited you here. You came back soon after the sunset… We somehow managed to get you into a more or less decent condition and you went to sleep.'

_"Are you fine, Dante? Did I overlook your mental wounds after Hell? Do you need help?"_ Vergil wanted to ask his brother, but he only managed to pull out a cold:

'Remember now? Hurry and set yourself to rights. There is a lot of business waiting to be taken care of.'

_"Oh, crap… And I thought it was a dream…"_ Despite all the confusion, Dante felt relieved at the thought that Vergil really was by his side, though it seemed that he had to prove it to his sick mind at least every day that his older brother was safe and was not planning on killing him anytime soon. Well, at least not until he found out the truth about Dante being his brother, and there was no way in Hell Dante would let such a slip happen.

All seemed fine and almost too fine to be true. The sweet illusion was broken instantly as Dante's complaisant memory served him with memories of the previous evening in all their clarity and vividness.

_"Oh my goodness! I almost freaking slept with him!"_ the devil hunter looked at his older brother in pure terror. _"He – he didn't know anything… But me, how could I fall so low, he's my very own older brother… Crap! Oh, does he know yet?"_

'How's your brother search?' Dante inquired in a funeral voice.

'Didn't I tell you?' Vergil flinched. _"Found so much more than I asked for."_ He barely held back a satisfied smirk. _"Not that I have any complaints so far." _'I decided to postpone that search until the whole trouble with the uprising in the Underworld is solved.'

_"He really doesn't know…" _Dante looked at the black wood of the table. Vergil was there, so close that he could touch him if he spread out his hand, so close that he could tousle his white combed-back hair. This man, his brother, accepted his help, let his stubborn proud persona depend on an ordinary man that was Dante. This man across the table took his hand and embraced him, sharing one breath, one heart, one life. _"Why couldn't it be like this before? Why do you always go away, Vergil?"_

'Can I have some whiskey now?' His voice breaking, Dante put his head down onto his crossed arms and hid his face in the folds of the old sweater.

'No,' Vergil cut out. 'Go upstairs and clean yourself up.'

_"Whatever it is, that makes you feel down, I will find it. But I won't push you if you don't want to talk. " _Vergil's hand fist clenched tightly and he left the kitchen. 'I'll wait for you outside.'

As his older brother was going away, Dante thought he could hear him mutter: 'I can't stand you sulking.'

…

Dante zipped up his black leather pants, pulled on his fingerless gloves and threw the red two-tailed coat over his shoulder.

**'I need you, too, Dante… ' He gasped and shuddered as with his older brother's words he was pushed to the edge and orgasm shook his whole body, the white semen covering Vergil's hand, some staining their stomachs, some spilling down. The soft sound rolled of his reddened lips: 'Verge…'**

**'Hn, Day…' a second later moaned Vergil into his shoulder and the hot seed painted Dante's fingers white. 'Ah…'**

'Fuck!' Dante kicked the wall. _"I need to sort that out."_ He slammed the bedroom door close behind him and hurried downstairs.

In the lobby Dante found a blond bewildered demon. Generally, he didn't have any time to bother with that stuff, so the devil hunter strolled up to the young man and pulled him close by the shirt.

'Wanna be my butler?' Dante asked and looked the demon in the eye.

'That-that would be very nice of y-you… it would be a pleasure for me…' Dorian muttered, unconsciously shy under a fierce stare.

'Good. Go find a part-time job and buy some cooler clothes. I go out now. So look after the shop.' Dante let the demon down and stormed out of Devil Never Cry.

'Took you long enough,' snorted Vergil, taking off the pillar he was leaning at. _"Hm, wearing your old stupid red coat,"_ the older Sparda almost snickered. _"Seems you get better every day."_

Dante looked at his brother, every feature of his cold emotionless face sharp, thin lips firmly closed, his dark glare piercing Dante – all too familiar. Every line of the figure that flew lightly from the stairs, the white combed-back hair touched gently by the wind, every little detail was painfully Vergil.

He should have protected all that. Not fucked it up. Almost literally, by the way… _"How could I do it? How could I let him fool me? Well, I always let him do whatever he wants don't I? What we did yesterday – it's only a mistake. I was confused, and he didn't know the truth…"_

**'Hn,' Vergil brushed the little white stains off Dante's chin and put his hand away. 'Beg.'**

**'Verge…' Dante suffered out, desperation in his voice. He looked seriously at Vergil, somehow getting past the haze, his dark eyes clear and content. 'Fuck me.'**

_"Crap, I wanted him to bloody fuck me!"_ Dante rushed after his brother. _"Okay, I admit, time to face it – I have some issues. Some serious sex-related issues… And I need someone to help me with these sex-related… Nevan."_

'I have a lot of things to take care of before opening the Hellgate,' Vergil talked, as the Sparda brothers walked shoulder by shoulder from Devil Never Cry down the empty street with small medieval two-storey houses. They were all alone in the small street: people rarely came here if not for a certain reason, since that was one of the back streets with small postern doors for escapes, with the backstairs and rows of windows that lit up during the night – and that meant that nothing legal or decent was going on.

'You have not fully recovered, as it seems.' Vergil glanced at his younger brother. There still were small dark marks on Dante's chest, left by the hooks. 'Moreover, you can be easily mistaken for me, and I can not be sure that the demons left the city. So you will follow me today. I don't care what you want to do, but you are not to leave my side. Is that understood?'

'I need to go see Nevan. Immediately,' Dante brushed his long white locks out of his face. _"This is going to end in another argument."_

'Why the rush?' Vergil tucked his hands into his pockets as a means of preventing any unnecessary violence. _"I have no time to go that bitch's place. I have to meet over ten people today and there are even more orders to make."_

'It's just urgent,' Dante hurried ahead of his brother so that Vergil didn't see his face. _"Can't face him after yesterday… If only I had someone to talk to about all this fucked-up madness!"_

'I had other plans,' the older Sparda stated, his voice dangerously even.

'Um,' Dante bit his lip and quickened his pace. 'Could you possibly solve your problems by phone?'

'Oh,' Vergil was surprised, his building annoyance lessening, 'Maybe I could. But I don't have one.'

'Here, have mine,' the devil hunter turned around without stopping, fished a cell out of the back pocket of his leather trousers and threw the phone to his older twin.

Vergil caught the cell phone, pleasantly surprised that they hadn't fought this time. Dante kept on walking in front of him, silent.

Vergil remembered the number of the tailor and started dialing… There was a picture of a topless Nevan on the screen of the phone.

'I think I need to talk to Nevan, too.' Vergil lulled and pushed the green button, almost crushing it through the metal frame of the phone.

''kay, talk to her when I bring her to the bar,' oblivious Dante answered him and opened the dark wooden door under the pink neon letters saying 'Succubus' in some really lecherous letters. He confidently walked downstairs into the club that was now empty since it was still early morning. Vergil followed.

'Hey, Sunshine!' Dante waved his hand at the man who was practically sleeping at the bar, half-empty bottle in his hands.

'Hey,' muttered Sunshine and unstuck his head from the lacquered surface of the counter. The lights in the bar were on for once and the windows were rid of curtains, and Sunshine didn't like the way the light was making his eyes suffer at all. The barman looked around, though, as an obligation, at the empty tables and sofas and the spacey podium with colourfull glass tiles where the girls usually danced and stripped, and sighed heavily. 'Whadda ya want?'

'The redhead here?' Dante asked, laughing and patting the barman's shoulder with sympathy.

'The Witch? In her room,' Sunshine mumbled and put his head back down. He must have had a hard night yesterday.

'Look after that dude over there for me, okay?' Dante waved at a white-haired man in jeans and a silver shirt who stood with his back towards the barman and was talking on the phone, leaning over the counter with his elbow.

'Uh-huh.'

'I'll be right back,' the devil hunter headed for the door that lead to the backstage, when Vergil's voice caught him:

'Dante! I'll stay here and wait for you.'

Dante looked back. His older twin was standing at the bar, covering the mike of the cell with his free hand. There he was, the Vergil whom he waited for so long, in the flesh. The older Sparda's eyes on him as if Vergil was worried.

'Thanks,' the devil hunter smiled and disappeared behind the door.

The stubborn boy whom Vergil knew once as his little brother became a stubborn grown-up man. He wore the same red eyesore type of the clothes, he was still clumsy and arrogant, but now it all looked different. The red leather coat became a trademark, and Vergil could almost admit that he would search for it in a crowd of people if they ever got separated again. Dante's clumsiness – a misunderstanding – turned out to be a mere by-product of his laziness to learn to control his immense power properly. His arrogance became almost justified – now that Vergil had had countless duels with his younger twin, he knew what might could be concealed inside that body.

That body… it matured. Dante took all the beatings fate presented him with and lived through it with the same sincere smile that Vergil had just seen.

_"I want to have him all for myself."_

'Mister?' The voice of an old lady on the phone called. 'Could you repeat your order number, please? Mister, are you listening?'

Vergil hung up automatically without replying and sat down on one of the stools.

'I'd like to have something to drink, if you don't mind, mister… barman, if I presume correctly?' he asked the blond man in the black clothes and a white long apron with a pocket who was sitting near him.

Sunshine moaned and looked up unwillingly.

'Oh, shit!' the barman jerked up and almost fell from his stool, but grabbed the counter just in time. The person who came in with Dante turned out to be another Dante, but with his hair combed back and an air of haughtiness surrounding him. Sunshine found a solution to his confusion and relaxed. 'Lemme guess – Vergil?'

'Indeed. How do you know my name?' the older twin asked cautiously.

'Chill, man, I don't fucking care who you are as long as you are with Dante, I'm not into that demon-human dilemma. And I know ya merely from the dude's stories. Ya'know, he tends to brag about you a lot when he isn't that sober.'

'I never knew that,' Vergil frowned._ "Maybe I could learn something about Dante here."_

'I'm Sunshine. I hate the nickname already, y'know? But they won't stop calling me that…' the barman pouted. He took a clean glass and put it onto the counter in front of his guest. 'I feel horrible so if you want to drink something – help yourself, the bottles are on the shelves.'

Vergil looked at the liquors of different colours helplessly. 'Do you have water?'

'Take a bottle in the fridge.'

Vergil's cell phone rang – the old lady from the tailor redialed. He sipped the water, crystal ice cubes clicking in the glass, frowned at the picture of the topless Nevan, and answered the incoming call.

Dante knocked at the mahogany door and went in without waiting for an answer.

For once, the numerous candles were not lit and the window was not draped and Dante could see that the room was all blue.

Nevan was sitting at the dressing table in front of the huge mirror that reflected her, clad in a long black dress. Open marble shoulders, elegant neck. She was doing her hair and looked around when she heard the door open, the heavy red locks falling down freely.

'Hi,' said Dante quietly. It felt as if he came back to his own room – a room where he could lock himself up and do anything he wanted – cry, laugh, jerk off or sleep. Like a place where he could forget about appearances and be just himself.

'Hello to you, too, sugar,' Nevan smiled and stood up from a chair that had the same Victorian carved decorations on the arms and the back as all the furniture in the room – the divan, the in-laid wardrobe and the armchairs, all upholsted with the same blue material.

In the center of the small room, against the back wall, stood a bed, covered with a sapphire heavy velvet. In front of the bed there was a thick white carpet, a nice place to sit on and chat.

Dante walked ahead right up to the bed and simply fell down on it.

'How have you been?' Nevan sat beside him.

'Have been to Hell,' the devil hunter said, and turned his face towards her. Her lips were painted-up by the bright red lipstick, as always.

'Are you fine?' the demon asked, not surprised anymore, since she had known him; and going to Hell – it almost seemed logical. 'It's not a resort-like place, is it?'

'No, definitely not.' Her soft hand lay on his back, stroking lightly along the red leather of his coat.

'And I almost slept with my brother, who doesn't know we are siblings.'

'Oh.' Nevan looked at him expectantly, not sure how to react to such a confession. But Dante just stared past her, his gaze sliding along the ultramarine fabric on the walls, past the carved mahogany frame of the window, past the velvet curtain to the azure sky behind the glass.

'I'm lost.' Dante turned around, lay on his back, threw his hands to the sides and closed his eyes. 'Kiss me.'

She leaned in and connected their lips, a soft tender sensation.

'Hm,' Vergil finished another conversation on the cell phone. 'Tell me, Sunshine. How about sex – some time later?'

'What?' the barman, who was checking the liquors, almost sent a bottle of cognac flying to the floor.

'I take it you are gay,' Vergil put the phone onto the counter and sat gracefully at the bar, leaning closer to the young blond man.

'Well, yes, but it doesn't mean I'll go and fuck you just 'cause you asked,' Sunshine mumbled, still bewildered by the request.

'You see,' Vergil continued, 'I need some guidance and I thought you might help me. After all, I know I am not that bad of a choice.'

'Not bad at all,' admitted Sunshine, getting past the initial shock and drinking in Vergil's vicious smile and his dark glare from behind the white lashes.

_"Come on, I need you before I can make a move on Dante."_

'Actually, there is a man I like. However, all the experience in sex with other men I have had so far is that of a rather disturbing type. So I thought you might help me so that I don't hurt the person I treasure.'

'Wow,' Sunshine was surprised to see the cold-hearted person Vergil seemed to him care so deeply for someone else. 'Will you tell me who that is?'

'Perhaps, after you help me out.'

'Then let me think about it till tomorrow?' Sunshine checked Vergil out one more time and hm-ed._ "I never had a chance with Dante himself. So why not go for his brother? After all, a healthy sex with no string attached is fine with me."_

'Okay, tomorrow it is then.' Vergil took the phone and dove into his 'business' calls. Another ten minutes passed.

'Hey, Sunshine?' Vergil called out.

'Yes?'

'Why does it take my brother so long?' the older Sparda asked, irritated by Dante's absence.

'You don't know? For Hell's sake, it's Dante, and he went to Nevan. And there is only one reason in the world why he would go to her, as he himself said.'

'What reason?' Vergil felt a chill run through his body and sneak into his chest.

'To fuck, of course.'

'Are you going to try and forget everything? Cure it all with sex?' Nevan asked against the devil hunter's cheek.

'I'm gonna figure it out, with sex… Well, don't try to understand, it's somewhat complicated.' "_I need to figure it out, why does it get on my nerves when Vergil tries to hit on me and why do I get so hot and bothered because of him anyway." _Dante looked at her and Nevan could read _"Help me!"_ in his sharp features.

'Okay,' she smiled. 'Maybe you could snap like the last time,' she chuckled and pushed Dante's coat open, fingers tracing down his chest to the abs.

'Just do it already…' Dante grabbed her by the neck and kissed the demon, carefully pushing past her lips, caressing her tongue. It was strangely peaceful, no tension at all, like an ordinary action, like breathing, like walking.

_"It is so different compared to what happened with Vergil. I was suffocating then, I thought I was going crazy…It was wrong. Wasn't it? That fever and haze."_

Nevan unzipped his pants and started to caress teasingly his half-erect member. Her fingers were softer. Her motions were slower.

It was easy to get turned on after all the events of the previous evening. Dante remembered Vergil's touch, rough and gentle at the same time, his brother's face on the brink of surrendering to the bliss.

Nevan kissed him again, a languid and slow kiss, a passion not burning, but strong and heated. Not sloppy, confident and fast, as then.

The demon stood up in a fluid motion and straddled him, pulling up her long silky dress until it was around her hips. The silk was the same – the material that outlined the strong shoulders and the tempting neck, the silver silk he tore off yesterday. This time, the silk was black and it outlined the round curves of the sleek body. The desire to tear it off didn't come.

'Give me pleasure, Dante,' Nevan whispered lustfully, her heavy red locks framing her face, lips bright and catching attention. He didn't want to touch her: he was stronger, much stronger than her. If it were the white locks and the familiar skin and the same blood as ran in his own veins – there was no fear, he could let the lust drive him insane. But Nevan – she was a woman, a demon weaker than him, and he didn't want to break her or even slightly hurt her.

Nevan slowly pushed down, guiding the devil hunter's rigid cock inside her. It was hot, as usual, and Nevan's luxurious body was on top of him, breasts slowly swaying as she moved up and down, and Dante let go of all thought. He let the demon ride.

She noticed that he gave in - and laughed, licking the lipstick off her lips, pleased by the submission.

The simple words struck Vergil, and he slowly put his glass with water down. It clinked at the lacquered counter, as he barely could control his shaking hand.

**'Ver-gil…' Dante panted. 'Touch me for fuck's sake… I can feel you are hard against me. Just – stroke us together like that time, in the car…'**

**'I might consider it…' Vergil answered mock-seriously – he himself was as well on the verge of losing control.**

**'Vergil, crap, and I shared a room with you for so long. If I knew you were this freaking mind-blowing fantastic sick fuck I would have let you do whatever you wanted a long time ago…' Dante kissed the older twin, a short peck on the lips.**

**'Touch me. Now.' Dante kissed his brother, feeling ready to lose all his senses every second now. 'I need you Verge. I need you, brother…'**

**'I know,' Vergil whispered back between the kisses as they were jerking each other off. 'I need you, too, Dante…'**

Vergil looked at the parquet floor. Everything he was trying to accomplish just crumbled down, fucked up to Hell.

It came, sudden and enormous, as death. It was the pain, the loss and the emptiness.

'Sunshine,' the voice came out sharp and lifeless.

'What?' the young man realized that if he said 'no' now, he was as good as dead.

Vergil glared at him, darkly, peremptoryly:

'Wanna fuck?'

'Sure.'

Nevan was all over him, her hands pushing Dante up, arching him, tossing his head to the side – all to her liking. He was in no mood for being responsible for anything – even for his own movements, so he didn't protest when she put his hand against her breast, and he squeezed almost automatically.

He could let her do anything, and it was a relief after so much lime with Vergil, whom he had to oppose.

Part of Dante wanted to forget everything, even his own identity, and give in to Vergil. Another part of him wanted to tell Vergil the truth. How could he accept this ephemeral childish happiness if he knew Vergil was fooled? The more he thought about it, the more complicated it seemed, but he couldn't stop his own thoughts and worries, and they nibbled at him, nagged at him and ate him from the inside.

What was it that Vergil liked in him? Did Nevan see it, too? Why did she stay with him, why did she let him have sex with her? Was it that power?

The smile on Nevan's face faltered, but Dante didn't notice it.

After all, it had always been him – Vergil, the one who one way or the other was in the center of Dante's universe.

Did Vergil want him because of the power, too? But those eyes. Vergil's eyes were sincere. The colour of the azure sky – when he was happy; the dark shade of aquamarine – when he was driven by lust and passion. Vergil wouldn't lie. He would bring pain, he would be cruel, he would be selfish – but Vergil never lied.

_"I wish I could have you by my side, brother."_

Nevan stopped and stayed seated on top of Dante. There was no trace of satisfaction or smile on her face. Offended but powerless, she was looking at Dante, who lay on her bed, head to the side and, looking into the azure sky at the window, the devil hunter never noticed silent tears rolling down his cold cheek and onto the dark blue velvet cover.

'Dante,' Nevan sighed. 'What is the point of having sex when there are three of us in the room?' _"I should have known there was no way for me to get Dante. I should have known the day I saw that selfish demon in this world." _'Dante?'

'What?' the devil hunter replied mechanically, not tearing his stare away.

'Say it already,' Nevan wiped his cheek with her hand.

'Vergil…' Dante breathed out and closed his eyes, as if a hard stone was lifted from his chest and he could finally rest.

Nevan stood up, straightened her dress and threw the corner of the cover over Dante.

'I haven't even gotten any pleasure, you selfish bastard! You owe me big time now!' the demon grumbled and sat angrily at the dressing table to finally pin up her hair.

'I owe you,' Dante agreed weakly, zipping up his trousers. Then he curled up, pulled the velvet cover closer and almost instantly fell asleep, the traces on his cheeks still wet, yet his heart relieved – as it seemed he finally knew what he really wanted.

*****endo chap 1*****

Yay chap 17 out! Gimme cookies.

It was not hardcore – I just didn't think these things would take up the whole chap.

I hope it was rather pitiful a piece – you know what I mean. I hope I manage to convey the horror and suffering – though this time it's a lil different typo suffering.

**Coming next: the HARDCORE I promised before!**

Again thank you for the reviews! I did try to answer every one of them, hope you got the pms!

This chap should be the best apology for the delay T_T sorry, FML! – my yaoi gods know I didn't want to dealy!

As always, your reviews are my best motivators! So – feed this lil hamster of me please!

PS LUV you all! My dear readers! *Kiss-kiss-sens LUV*

heck! it again? 200 viewers fer 2 days - and no frigging feedback? come on, you want me to go jump outa the window?

Now its been another 200. Thank you **allie =3** you were the only one to cheer me up! The only frigging one. *headkeybaoard*

See ya. =_=

Ethan


	18. A road to Hell: Doppelganger

...

**Babling**

...

**Warnings:** NC! – yaoish. as well as mental crap is back)

**Betad! By Nimlinven and Tora-katana! Thak you gals, i'm here mostly because of your help! You are my official sponsors... psycologically)**

I still hate studying. Well, it Will end with the end o the term, won't it?

Thaks to those who reviewed even though they are not members of FF!

'Dialogue'

"_Thoughts"_

**Voices of Vergil's:**

_**Mad Hatter [italics]**_

Alice (Vergil) ['font']

"**Queen of hearts"**-** ["font"]**

'**Cheshire Cat'**

...

**Chap 18**

**A road to Hell / Doppelganger**

'There is only one reason in the world why he would go to her, as he himself said.'

Vergil felt a chill run through his body and sneak into his chest.

'To fuck, that is.'

The simple words struck Vergil, and he slowly put his glass with water down. It clinked at the lacquered counter, as he barely could control his shaking hand. The older Sparda looked at the parquet floor.

Everything I was previously trying to accomplish just crumbled down, fucked up to Hell.

It came, sudden and enormous, as death. It was the pain, the loss and the emptiness.

"_Why did you?"_ Vergil bit his lip in silent bitterness, his eyes squinting at the bright yellow squares of sunlight on the dark wood of the floor.

After it came, it coiled, dead and slick, in his chest, the suffocating emptiness.

"_Why? I thought… I thought we were getting closer. Was I the only one who let you inside my heart? Was I the only one who foolishly believed in the possibility of us being something other than enemies?_

_Was I the only one who cared as we touched each other? Was last night no different for you than all the nights you spent with whores?'_

Its cold fingers were under his skin, almost making him shiver, but Vergil stayed still, as his heart was pumping liquid poison through his veins.

'_I like you, I do. I let myself trust you. You tried everything to show me you didn't want the animosity between us. It was you who helped me when was the best time to strike – when I was helpless. But you stayed by my side and returned me to who I am._

_I fucking came to believe you. Seeing you come back from Hell, knowing you did the same father did for us, knowing you went in without caring for the consequences, knowing you did it for me…_

_What the fuck are you thinking?_

_Why did you save me and throw me away?'_

Its sharp fangs dug into the tender pulsing flesh and it tightened its twines around Vergil's neck and chest, the vermin he could not name.

'_Why the Hell did you help me recover and return? Why did you not leave me broken and memory-less?_

_Did you want to fight me properly; was it all for your own foolish pride so that you could show that even if I am in full power you still can beat me? Don't give me that crap, I won't believe it! It's true that all your actions lead me to believe you were a fool who could not form even a decent phrase, who could not see father than their nose, but I know you are just the pretender._

_I know you are the Joker I know you are the two-faced Janus, who barely let me see behind your everyday mask – just a couple of times, but I know now!_

_So… why?'_

The void, the vermin with a bitter name.

'_Even when I learned that you were my brother, the one I loathed for years, the plans of whose murder were my sweet dreams for numerous nights – you yourself stroke out any doubt from my heart. Going to Hell instead of me, how could I blindly hate you then?_

_You let me see – and I knew that you were not the ever-irritatingly happy person, whom cruel reality never affected in any way. I knew the second you pulled the trigger and pain was squashing your whole being._

_I remember your hollow stare, emptied by desperation as the crimson bloody phoenix that fluttered out of your temple: you were no heartless demon as I blamed you to be._

_So, why do you do this to me now?_

_Smashing me down to ashes and burning me to dust like a forgotten memory of yesterday?"_

Betrayal.

'Sunshine,' Vergil called without looking up. The voice came out sharp and lifeless.

'What?' the young barman shivered: that tone told him clearly that if he said 'no' now, he was as good as dead.

Vergil glared at him, darkly, angrily, peremptorily:

'Wanna fuck?' The thin lips of the demon moved, cutting out every sound like a perfect strike of a blade, crystal clear and fearsome in its simplicity.

'Sure,' muttered Sunshine, mesmerized by the dry cherry lips and then by the azure diamond-sharp glare of cold eyes.

'Then come with me,' Vergil said evenly and slid from the stool swiftly, his movements uncharacteristically edgy and, quick in his determination, the Dark Knight strode out of the empty hall of Succubus. The young man followed after him, leaving the white apron on the counter, the fear and anxiety keeping him a trance.

'Hey,' Sunshine asked shyly when they walked out of the wooden door of the club.

'What?' Vergil calmly notified the human that he was listening, and headed for Devil Never Cry, an impassionate liquid nitrogen. Blue and composed, but freezing to death instantly when touched.

'Um, what was all that about? I never said anything offensive, really.'

'Never you mind,' Vergil let the words roll off his tongue and his features stilled back to the well-formed mask of indifference.

Sunshine glanced at the older twin and was once again shocked how differently Vergil brought out the demon features of the Sparda family. _"Whatever. I couldn't have the younger one no matter how I wanted. He is straight as an arrow, after all, with all those girls, and with Nevan. Why not try to get the older one? It was him, who offered, wasn't it. I only hope he doesn't start taking out on me whatever anger is inside him now. What is wrong with Dante sleeping with Nevan anyway."_

'You can't even be really sure if he did it with her,' the barman muttered to himself.

Vergil suddenly stopped and closed his eyes, trying to regain his self-control, which - he could not understand anymore – he wasn't sure he had or not. _"I. Am. A. Bloody. Idiot."_

"_Why in the world did I trust a stray word of a stranger. I never knew what Dante really did. So I should just ask him when he comes back. I should cool my head and stop acting so rash."_

'Let's go,' Vergil's words softer now, he resumed his fast walk towards the doors of the agency, but this time.

The serpent was licking the wound on Vergil's heart, but the pain almost vanished.

"_Maybe I should try and trust him. Once. But, is it even the first time that I want to believe in him?_

_Maybe not really. Since I was so sure he would be here anyway, for a battle or for my comfort – for whatever I choose, for me. Was I trusting him unconditionally to meet my expectation? Huh._

_Hey, Dante. Tell me you didn't go to have sex with that bitch. Okay, you dolt?"_

By a strong firm hold of Vergil's willpower, the vermin was extirpated and tossed aside like a harmless rug.

'You going?' Vergil called the barman and opened the door to the Devil Never Cry. 'I still have someone whom I want to have sex with. So, if you don't mind me using you for practice…'

'Oh, darn, so moody,' Sunshine rolled his eyes and walked into the lobby, unbuttoning his black shirt and letting it fall to the floor.

Vergil just smirked. _"No, Dante, you didn't sleep with her. I would kill you otherwise with my own hands. Would cut off every piece of skin that wench touched. You are my toy for now. My property. And no living creature, be it human, demon, or the devil himself, won't touch you, and if they will, that shall be the last thing in their life."_

'Welcome,' Dorian stuck his head out of the kitchen. 'Oh. I see we have guests. Any orders, um… Sir?'

Having some kind of Vergil's patronage now, Sunshine walked leisurely to the desk, sat onto it and took a look around. In the big hall, where the walls were covered with book shelves and with some creepy devil-hunter-whatever artifacts and weapons, there stood a couple of chairs, a billiard table – _"A nice thing, by the way. Why not use it? Ah, right, he said he didn't want discomfort. The first time imitation that is then, no billiard tables, heh."_ – a purple coach – _"Well, judging by the pillow, someone obviously slept here last night, so no coach action as well." _– and the drum set with the jukebox, guitars on the wall. _"Well, this desk shall do."_

Seeing that the older Sparda was back to his playful, not-so-killing-susceptible mood, the barman spread his legs wider and put his hand onto the wood of the desk right in front of his crotch, spreading his fingers gently and licking his lips suggestively, not even bothering to cover up the obvious invitation.

'Get lost for a couple of hours, and drag any possible visitors with you' offered Vergil for an order for the demon in the kitchen and almost waltzed up to his prey on the desk, as Dorian was silently leaving the agency. _"I won't hurt Dante the way I was hurt. Never. So I should at least give it a try with this cocky kid."_

"_I would be touching Dante. If not today, then soon enough."_ Vergil stood in front of Sunshine; the door of the agency opened and closed, the lock tingled, and they were alone. _"I want warmth to turn to."_ The aristocratic slim fingers traced the barman's skin up from wrist to shoulder. Vergil's eyes fell shut as he exhaled and drew forward. _"The warmth of his skin, soft. The scars from Hell not healed yet, I can't feel them now, but I remember. I remember their marks and the lines." _The moist lips were close, tempting Vergil to give in and just devour them, but he lingered, feeling their breaths mingling._ "No, Day, I won't rush you."_ Another second of insufferable abstaining passed, Vergil's fingertips crawling up the bare shoulder and to the neck, a hardly tangible touch, slow and crazy. _"I almost lost it yesterday when you came to me, so I am not giving in now. You would like it, right? You tease. Fucked me up with the tie yesterday. You could free yourself any second but played by my rules till the end. You like it, don't you?"_ The lips were almost touching Vergil's, but neither made a move. Vergil was too concentrated on being considerate and taking it slow. The other…

Another move, and Sunshine would be trembling, shaking in the demon's hands with a strange emotion he could not find a name for. Looking at Vergil, who had his eyes closed, whose features lost their marble coldness and relaxed, whose brows were not knit together in a frown, Sunshine knew this was something only few could ever see. Vergil's hand barely touching the back of Sunshine's neck, the barman couldn't think but about how close they were. Closer than he had ever been with a human being.

They were together in silence, only two of them, and there was an intense attentiveness among them; any little gesture too important, like a confession of their feelings.

A heartbeat. Warmth almost passing from body to body, a touch away, only the white silk shirt of the demon's between them. Chest to chest, a phantom of the contact, flame-like burning for the mind, but not quite hot enough for the body.

_Beat_. Sunshine closed his eyes, unable to take the pressure anymore.

_Beat_. Fingertips in his hair, making him want to throw his head back and open the chest for the kisses. Yet Sunshine stayed still, afraid to move, to breathe, to disturb the silent agreement. He would hold his breath if he could, so that the time would stop.

_Beat_ – Vergil's heart in his ribcage. _"Can you hear my heart? Dante. You awake something inside me." Beat. "Something that is strong. Something that drives me crazy…" Beat. "You are the only one." Beat. "I like you." Beat. "I want you."Beat. "I need you" Beat. "– everything that's you." Beat. "Dante."_

_Beat. "Please, I need to touch you, to make sure that it is you in front of me. I need to have your hand to know that everything around is not a play of my sick mind. I need to know that tomorrow I won't wake up in a cell somewhere underground. Or alone in the middle of war. I need to know that you will be there…"_

**Beat.**_"That's it, I can hear your heart…"_

_Beat._

**Beat.**

_Beat._

_**Beat.**_

_**Beat.**_

_**Beat.**_

Vergil's lips fell ajar and, his both hands closed around the frame in front of him, like a pair of wings. He leaned in and touched the lips of the other, just a connection.

"_It's me. Don't reject me, please. Please, no more games. I want it any way – just honestly. No more pretence. I won't hurt you anymore, I promise. I will tell you everything you want to hear. Every thought, every desire, every dream – I will voice all of them for you. You wanted to know, and I couldn't show you. Now, I will take responsibility and show you my whole world. Every little corner of it – if you want."_

Vergil's lips moved, caressing the ones under them. The reply was shy, but a reply none the less. A cautious hand touched his collarbone, but jerked away the next instant. He shivered in dread, as if it was the first time he was ever touched and he was afraid it would hurt him. Hurt him more than any fire of Hell ever could, hurt him beyond repair. But he had to take the risk.

"_It's fine. Take your time. I am afraid, too. To touch you. To be with you. To stay by your side."_

The touch came back and a hand lay on Vergil's shoulder. It slid to Vergil's back and another one lay on his cheek.

"_Thank you… Thank you, Dante…" _Vergil's heart spasmed and started beating faster.

Beat, beat, beat – it was thumping inside his body, and Vergil caressed the other's lips with his own, once, twice, trice. There was no protest, but another shy lick in return. Warm and somewhat dear.

"_Be with me, Day. Let me have this moment. Please, don't shatter this clumsy fragile dance."_

The slow kiss deepened, and their tongues touched, then slid past each other, still careful not to scare the other away.

'May I…' Vergil pushed back and muttered. He opened his eyes.

In front of him, Dante sat on the desk, feeling strange, obviously, as his sky-blue eyes were clouded, and he hesitated, then he threw his white hair out of his face and whispered:

'Yes…'

_**The Hatter smiled and sipped the tea from the porcelain cup. He straightened up his blood-red top hat. "Bon appétit."**_

The lips connected yet again. Vergil fumbled with the buckle on Dante's belt, finally undid it and unzipped the black trousers.

'Vergil,' his younger brother's voice was husky and low. 'You sure…'

'Yeah,' the older Sparda nodded, helped his brother as he pushed the trousers down past Dante's hips, and peeled them off together with socks and shoes, leaving everything on the floor.

'It's strange somehow...' _"It's the first time I feel so naked in front of the man whom I am going to be with. Is it because you are a demon?"_

'Don't worry. Trust me…' Vergil kissed him again and embraced Dante at the waist as they now stood in front of each other. _"It's your first time, after all. Would be strange…"_ 'You have nothing to worry about. After all, you are gorgeous…'

'Oh…' he looked away, as the older Sparda was holding him close. _"Why does it have to sound so embarrassing now…It's not like this is the first time…"_

'May I…' Vergil thumbed his cheek and pushed his face up for another kiss.

'I told you already…' _"Why is it so intimate? It's just Vergil… I don't even know him…"_

A hand touched his already half-hard member and stroke lightly. The touch came a shock, strong sure fingers, making him shake and lean onto Vergil for support.

'You can skip this part…' he groped for the edge of the desk and tried turning around, but Vergil stopped him.

'Can't I at least see your face?' the older twin asked and it was apparent he wouldn't insist in case of rejection.

''Kay,' he nodded and let Vergil lay him on the desk. 'It's in the pocket…'

The older Sparda found the trousers on the floor and took a small white tube out.

'Just say if you are uncomfortable with it or-...'

'I won't break.' A faint smile lit up Dante's face as Vergil looked at him from above.

'No. Not you,' the older twin smiled at his brother and opened the tube, squeezing some of the transparent substance onto his fingers.

'Ah,' a cold touch slipped moistly from his balls to the back, and Vergil was kissing him again, patiently, giving him breaks so that he could breathe and voice any protest he had. The older twin's eyes now were dark, enormous pupils with the thin azure edging staring intently at him, waiting for his response.

'Fine?' Vergil stroke his temple and a slick finger touched the tensed-up muscle.

'Um, guess so… I'm clean, so you can go on…'

'I was asking if you yourself were okay, stupid,' the older Sparda imprinted a peck on his cheek and the finger circled his entrance.

'Just promise me you will be honest and tell me if you don't like something,' Vergil pushed himself to say. _"I promised myself not to hurt you… So I have to tell you all of this."_

'Okay…' a hand lay on Vergil's back and another on his shoulder.

"_Holding on to me…"_ the older twin smiled smugly. _"A promise is a promise so I'll tell him…"_

'Could you hold me tighter?' Vergil whispered in Dante's ear. 'Showing that you want this, too, that you like me even a little - it makes me really stupidly happy.'

'Um, thanks for telling me,' a breathed-out laugh. The hands embraced Vergil tightly and his face was in the crock of Dante's neck.

"_**Wasn't it supposed to rain?" pondered the Hatter.**_

An 'Ah!' caressed Vergil's ear as he slid a finger in. He waited for a rejection but nothing happened, only Dante was stroking his hair.

It was tight, so Vergil moved in and out several times and added the second finger. The slick digits were practically all covered in the transparent lube, so it was easy. Unexpectedly easy.

'Come on, give me more,' Dante chanted out all in one, and Vergil complied, pushing the third finger in. 'Shit!' The fingers grabbed at his shirt and the body under him tensed and arched into him.

'Are you alright?' Vergil hurried to pull his hand away, but his younger brother moaned:

'Don't stop, don't take them away…' and Vergil didn't know what to do, confused. '…you were doing just fine… just pick up where you have left off…'

'Alright.' Vergil's cool lubed fingers were back, they pushed past the ring of muscle one by one, caressing it, and then spread the inner walls.

'Ah,' he pushed Vergil down with force as the older Sparda's thumb circled the stretched muscle from the outside. 'Move in and – ah! – out… Ah-hnn…' His hand jerked at Vergil's shirt and his hard shaft was against Vergil's thigh.

'Music for my ears,' a low voice whispered to him, and the stray white strands of Vergil's messed-up gelled hair fell to his face, carrying a sharp scent of winter and freshness.

'You smell like ice and snow,' he said with no real reason.

'Do I…' Vergil barely replied, as he slowly let his fingers slide out until only the tip of the middle finger was left inside, and then pushed them in again slowly.

'A-a-ahhh…' the body beneath him drowned in the sensation. 'Maybe you could… Vergil. While I am still coherent…'

'You think you are ready?' there was worry in the question.

'Just get to it.'

The older Sparda straightened up and unbuttoned his shirt, leaving the dark fingerprints on the silver silk. He unzipped his jeans and leaned over his younger brother until their faces were breath apart.

'You-…'

'Hush,' a finger was put against Vergil's lips to seal them.

The older Sparda didn't object, got hold of the other's hip and traced up to the knee, pulling Dante's leg up.

'Come on,' soft whimper kissed Vergil's skin and he pushed in, the heat engulfing him slowly and unwillingly.

Dante was holding onto him tightly, strong grip ripping the unbuttoned shirt off Vergil's back, their white hair together in a mop on the desk, hands and legs tied together into something whole.

"_I want to be with you. One with you," _Vergil closed his eyes and hid his face in Dante's neck. The slightly salty skin, the scratching nails and a slick Hell.

"_**Wasn't it supposed to rain?" the Hatter let the crystal-sharp snow-white ice cube dissolve into the blood-red herbal tea and it slowly died.**_

...

Dante turned to his back and yawned, then stretched and looked to the side. He was lying on the enormous bed in the blue room of Nevan's, and she was taking her clothes out of the packed-up Victorian wardrobe and throwing them in several random piles that were forming near him.

'Morning yet again today, sugar,' Nevan greeted him. 'Deigned to wake up already, you mood-killer?'

'What are you doing?' Dante sat up, shook his head to make his hair fall down as usual, and studied with suspicion the violet lace bra which he picked up from one of the piles with his two fingers. 'What's the time?'

'Give that to me!' The demon snatched the piece of clothing from Dante's gloved hand and grumbled. 'It's ten in the morning. And I am rearranging my clothes, isn't it pretty obvious? Now, get your gay ass out of my lair.'

'I am not gay, you lightning bitch, watch your mouth,' Dante pointed his finger at her angrily for emphasis, any remains of sleep shaken off him.

'Then what was that? – and don't point your finger at me, I might bite it off up to the shoulder!' Nevan threw the violet bra Dante in the face as a means of offence. 'You come to my place, as always, all fucked up by your brother, and when we were trying to kill two birds with one stone – to cure you of your melancholia and cure me of my boredom – with sex… What did you do? Let me remind you, my dear boy!' The demon came up to Dante and after making her breasts more comfortable inside the confines of the black dress, she kicked him violently in the chest, sending the devil hunter in the middle of the biggest clothes pile. 'You were lying with your cock inside me, looking at the sky in the window, thinking of Vergil. And – underline here! – you were rock-hard thinking about that bastard! So where in the world is it not gay?' She put her hands on her hips and looked expectantly at Dante who was wallowing in the rainbow waves of stockings, skirts, tank tops and dresses.

"_Oh, damn, Vergil… if he came onto me, does it mean he is __**gay**__?"_ the devil hunter suddenly remembered that his older brother was supposed to wait for him in the club hall.

'Crap, it's already _ten_! I gotta go!' He jerked up from the bed and, shedding pieces of Nevan's clothing on the way, Dante hopped up to the door.

'At least promise me you both will have sex with me for my birthday!' The demon whined, throwing her hands into the air.

'Gotta go, see ya!' Dante whooshed out towards the hall.

'Hey, say you promise!' Nevan threw her shoe at the door and pursed her lips seeing that the high heel of the black polished-leather shoe left a mark on the old wooden surface.

...

The pink neon lamps were off, the bottles at the empty bar, the black counter with a half-finished glass, the podium and the yellow squares of the windows. There was no one in the hall.

'Fuck! Vergil, where are you?' Dante shouted and rushed upstairs and out of the club.

'_Where is he, where did he go?..' _His boots beating fast on the stairs._ 'Did __**they**__ find him? It's my fault! How could I bloody fall asleep! He was supposed to wait for me…Crap, why do I just have to screw everything up?"_

'Vergil!' the devil hunter called as soon as he was outside, but the street with the old houses was answerless. 'Brother!' He clenched his fists.

"_Where can he be? Devil Never Cry? Please, be there…" _Dante threw himself ahead, the fresh afternoon air suddenly beat him in the chest and dragged him back, clutching at his coat , but he frowned at the rays of the sun and stubbornly pushed forward, his boot landing hard on the old cobblestones and sending a cloud of dust up with the force of the first step.

"_Vergil…"_ Vergil – the sharp glare of the azure eyes, the edgy words and the fluid motions, the heat and the warm demanding lips. All of it existed now somewhere, separated from Dante, and to the devil hunter it was equal to Vergil not existing at all._ "Verge, where are you?.."_

Dante could feel the lack – no intensity, no shiver, no sign of Vergil that followed him before. The place where his older twin was supposed to be – by his side – was empty, and Dante could feel the void.

Next step on the cobblestones, and the desperation flowed over the brick. Electricity cracked in the air and the steps became so fast, it was impossible to count. Leaving the red trail of the ancient runes behind, forgetting to breathe, Dante was rushing back to the agency, horrified solely by the thought of not finding his brother there.

"_If Vergil is not near – how will I know that he is alive? How will I know that he lived, and lives now? How will I know it wasn't a dream?_

_If only I could reach out and take his hand._

_You never let me close. Ever since we were children, Vergil, you pushed me away. All I could get from you – was never touch…_

_I remember your image. I remember the fresh, hardly tangible scent of yours - in your room and on the terry towels in the morning. I remember the hard blue leather of your coat. I remember the soft cloth of your shirt brushing past me. My hands remember the stitches of the scarf mother gave you. My skin remembers the sharpness of the sword father gave you._

_All these little memories belong to me._

_But there are none that have you inside them._

_How can I know that I have not just dreamed of you? How can I know, that my mind didn't just make you up from my loneliness?_

_So maybe, if I could just take your hand…"_

Dante flew up several stairs, squeezed the doorknob of the door and burst into the lobby of Devil Never Cry, calling:

'Vergil!'

There were two people inside. A blond young man lay naked on Dante's desk, slender body rocking gently, the soft line of his neck exposed when he tilted his head, his chest rising often, his legs tight around the other's waist. The other man was bending down over the desk, holding the blond's hands and pushing them to the wooden surface, kissing the blond from time to time. The other playfully let go of one of the the blond's hands and let him tug at his shirt. The silver silk slid off the other's back completely and fell to the floor. The other was smiling, almost laughing lightly, shaking his head to throw the disheveled white hair out of his face, and when the white strands were thrown back, his face could be seen: relaxed features, an easy sincere smile, half-lidded sly azure eyes. The other.

There was some noise at the side, and Vergil turned his head to look at it. Honestly, he did not care for anything at the moment, as he was ready to lose himself in bliss that the body beneath him was giving. He was finally happy, as he was being accepted for what he was, despite all the sins he had committed, despite all the fear and hate that he had shared with Dante, his younger brother, they were one and for that very moment, Vergil had his home, which was Dante's hands, Dante's warmth, Dante's heart.

'Vergil…' Dante said pointlessly.

"_He's at the door…?" _The older Sparda noted absently, but the strength of the familiar voice shook his whole being; teeth letting go of his lower lip he was biting unconsciously, he let out a soft sigh as he lost himself in pleasure, and fell down onto the fast-rising chest inside which a heart was beating. The heart where he belonged, Dante's heart.

Dante. Vergil was looking at him standing at the door, whole body covered in semi-transparent runes, flowing in red shining circles around him. His younger brother, in his half-awakened state. Dante.

The door was open and through the heat and the musky smell of sex, the draught brought the light scent of storm.

"_**And so it rains," the Hatter put his empty porcelain cup down onto the table and touched the white tablecloth lovingly. "I told you, didn't I? It was supposed to rain."**_

Vergil collapsed as he came, and Dante knew some part of him died that second.

'Okay,' the devil hunter said simply. 'I get it…' The glimmering red runes fell down in splinters and vanished. He went towards the stairs casually and up to his room.

Along the corridor and into the bedroom. Dante walked in, closed the door behind him and stood in front of the open window. The sky was clear azure. The void he wanted to close inside him didn't fill. It only widened, finally and irreversibly.

Dante woke up. His common sense lost sometime during his sleep, he was cold. He shivered but stayed in front of the window, right hand thrown ahead into the sky, reaching for somebody. But there was nothing before him. Dante stared ahead blankly.

He never got used to it. Every time it was so sharp and so painful, a razor-clean wound in his chest.

Dante hated living. Day after day, like a never-ending torture, if he could just exist so that the morning of the new day would never come and he never would have to be alone again.

The chill was always there. It was a sickness that penetrated his body. His heart clenched in his chest, but was beating nonetheless. What could it do to the chill? Nothing. Only beat on.

'Vergil…' said Dante barely above whisper. It was just like the days after _he _left.

His house was empty. There was no need to walk around to know that. There was nothingness around. An empty shell that died from inside-out.

Vergil's in another room.

As days passed, Dante's ritual stayed the same. He never knew how much time passed, but he would wander outside and kill some demons to earn some food, then prepare it in the kitchen and serve it there or eat it at the desk. Then Dante would sit silently for several hours, thinking that maybe Vergil would come. Just maybe, that would be the day.

At night he would lay in silence, unaware of long heavy minutes passing. It would get darker and darker and soon everything in the room would lose its shape and the chill would strengthen and invade his heart once again, but the cold slow tears would not come. He would lay still, so very still, in hope that the time itself won't notice him, and only deep at night he would fall asleep.

He could not cry, because Vergil would not want him to. Maybe this way he would come back. Just maybe, that would be the day.

Vergil came. Except that not for him.

As the hands of the clock on the wall went around, nothing changed. He was alone.

The huge freezing snake of the chill was coiling around, swallowing the whole house. Dante froze in time, listening very, very carefully, heart beating fast and painful in his chest.

Vergil came back. Except that Dante himself had become an empty shell that died from inside-out.

Vergil, the last sparkle of life, came back, but left him.

The snake of the chill was crowned with a name. Betrayal.

He was dead inside, but it still hurt. All Dante wanted was to become numb and forget. He wished for oblivion.

And the one he wanted excised out of his life was Vergil.

...

'I…' Vergil straightened up and looked at the man beneath him. It was the blond barman who was frowning at him.

'Don't bother explaining. You had sex with Dante and made love to me, when you should have done the opposite. You screwed up big time, Vergil.' Sunshine pushed the older Sparda twin away, letting Vergil's cock slide out of him and sat up on the desk. Sunshine's hands zipped up Vergil's jeans quickly. 'Now, go.'

Vergil silently strode upstairs.

"_**What a downpour," the Hatter sighed, as the heavy raindrops were beating the wet tablecloth and troubling the red surface of the herbal tea in his cup.**_

"**What did you expect?" The Queen of Hearts, tugging a lock of her wet golden hair behind her ear and closing her crimson fan. "It **_**is**_** the Pool of Tears."**

'**As a matter of fact, Vergil got tangled inside.'**

"**He fell into the Rabbit Hole, poor boy," sighed the Queen and threw the cat off the table. "Where one sees what one desires."**

"_**You can't even deal with the Rabbit's tricks. And they say you are supposed to fight the Jabberwocky. Ah, I bet on my new hat, he will soon be another white rose painted red."**_

"**No one is strong enough to fight the Jabberwocky, stop the nonsense! So, Vergil wants to? He's only killing the time. Off with his head."**

"_**Don't bother. Seems like he already lost his."**_

**...endo chap 18...**

And with this chap 18 ends. Phew. Go-go self-destruction! Holy macaroni, how I LOVE misunderstandings!

**Coming next: Out of his mind, out of his had enough. What the heck is happening? Dante decides to end his business with Vergil once and for all! Will he succeed in vanishing from Vergil's life forever? Considering Vergil doesn't want that XD The Wishmaster wants some more payment and forces it onto Dante. Who is this hot chick? (not an OC!) Nevan advises Dante on female masturbation. WTF?**

As always, your reviews are my best reward! Thank you those who reviewed the last chap, though it got only that lil number of reviews T_T – well - still better than nothing…

**adysubaru83**: sorry, that king of hell part will have to wait a lil… it happened so that I got interested in the femdante part, so it coming first… but don'tworry, I'll deal with the twin's heritage as well.

**Shiya64 **chew-chew awww shanksh fer shee keik. Hell yeah I an a damn neurotic psyco – so no prob with emotion here. Ahahahahah~

**Demoness of the Night **yeah, dante's a lot to loose.. I hope I got vergil's reasoning across though… erm… hope so…

**Allie **yeah Vergilis damn upset… but, well. I hope you could understand Dante as well… imagine you are straight and your best female friend comes onto you and you like it… he felt like trying to figure, was it the spur of the moment or he did like the other man. Er.. hope you get what I'm trying to pass across. Nevan is just generally a solution to any sex-related prob, y'know?

**Barranca** yeah good point about nevan. I should include her revenge somewhere. As to sunshine… he's like am all-understanding smartass, so I think he won't be very troubled) XD

**OnyxHikari **Welcome to my story! Getting someone new is always inspiring! Mmmm *happy dance* I'm very glad you like the mix) I don't like it myself when there is only 1 side, like humour or angst, so I have always wanted it all together)) hehe

but with so much angst in this one, I think its time fer humour or some fluff…

**Everyone, another half a chap and I'm getting to the brighter things) yay) and! Smut ahead! (Vergil/Dante yet again), lets rejoice!**

**PS You've gone and done it again! NO, I AM NOT POSTING or even starting my work on chap 19 until i get at least a frigging 10 comments on this one, cause for now it's only me giving and not even a smile for me to get back from you, readers. i do deserve some encouragement. sorry but... its time for another one 'fuck it'. ****I'm stopping the fic.**

Ethan


	19. Of bricks and ponces

...

**Babling**

...

**Warnings:** Angstey! Drug mention. Nothing much. Minor mental crap.

**Betad by Nimlinven and great honour to her who made this pieceoshit glitter and shine)**

'Dialogue'

"_Thoughts"_

**Voices of Vergil's:**

_**Mad Hatter [italics]**_

'**Cat'**

"**Queen of hearts"**

...

**Chap 19**

**Of bricks and ponces**

There was the sound of fast steps, but Dante didn't need to look back to know who was on his doorstep.

On the vast azure sky the airy white laces of clouds were flowing slowly.

Of course, it was his older brother, who opened the door confidently, but then suddenly stopped.

Into the open window slipped the soft blows of the chill, and Dante didn't fight it anymore, he just welcomed the familiar cold of loneliness.

'Dante…' Vergil made several steps ahead, towards the calm figure in the red coat, which the wind was touching gently. His younger brother remained imperturbable.

'You… want something?' Dante's even voice asked. He wasn't thinking about anything in particular, just floated in the feeling of the tenacious hands gnawing away the last pieces of his humanity, let the painful monstrosity wash over him slowly.

"_Please",_ His brother's uncharacteristic calmness scared Vergil. _"Shout, be angry, just say something! Don't close me out…"_

'Dante,' Vergil walked up to his younger twin and reached out for his shoulder, but a sharp word stopped him:

'Don't!'

Dante's head turned to the side a little as he cut out the word, and his white messy hair moved – but only for a second, then his whole being was solid and motionless again. Vergil's fingers stayed close to the red leather, almost touching the devil hunter's shoulder. Almost.

'Dante… I'm…' The older Sparda let his hand fall down. _"You have every right to send me to Hell now. But… I didn't mean to. You were supposed to be the one I wanted to… I can't control it anymore, it's stronger than me. It manipulates me and plays tricks on my mind. I… thought I was talking to you, Dante, please…" _Vergil's lips trembled with a whisper:

'Sorry…'

Dante was silent. _"Does he mean it? Do I want to hear it? Do I care?.."_ The devil hunter turned around, awakened from his hazy slumber, as sober as he ever had been, every little detail of the world now vivid and crystal clear to him, and looked at his older brother.

Vergil stood in front of him, his perfect copy, his other half. Vergil's hair was now messed up and falling down, framing his face, the chiseled features tensed, he was looking at Dante, the icy eyes serious and somehow sad, the cherry lips in a thin line. His fists were clenched not very tightly, as if he wanted to do something, but was holding back. Only in shoes and black low-rise jeans, his perfect body was as Dante remembered it – pale yet trained so that under the soft skin the light outlines of muscles could be seen, the flat stomach, the scarless chest – few got the chance to pierce it – the elegant line of the neck…

He was alive and he was Vergil. That was enough.

Dante had endured a lot. He could suffer another insufferable little bit. That was what he always did.

Dante was ready to say he didn't care for what Vergil had done, he was ready to say he would forgive – just for this small effort of asking for forgiveness, he was ready to let those hands embrace him – and forget about this betrayal that was now tearing him apart silently.

But there was a small ugly red flower of a bite mark on Vergil's pale neck and it was blooming, a perfect abominable ulcer screaming: _"He is not yours!"_

The sad icy eyes didn't stop Dante's hand.

"_For the first time you stand in front of me and wait for my answer to you. For the first time you __**care**__ for what I tell you. You want forgiveness? Did you ever – ever? – turn back to look at me when asked? Did you ever let me take your hand? You never did… All you did was hurt me and break me. So don't you dare ask me for forgiveness!" _Dante saw fear on the sharp features on his brother's for a second.

He hit Vergil in the face with the back of his hand. The older Sparda's head swung to the side with the force of the blow.

'This is what it tastes like,' barely above whisper Dante spit out bitterly, hoping sincerely that the older twin's heart was ringing now with the same kind of desperation and self-hatred that his own heart harbored.

Vergil's whole being was shaken. The fear that lived in his chest when he waited for his brother to return from Hell came back. He could still breathe, he could still move, he would be able to wield his sword. But it was empty and it was not mendable.

Vergil didn't want to believe. There was no anger, his pride was not even hurt with the blow. It was absolutely different – not a living thing; it had no body and had no mind, but it was bringing him the hurt he was so afraid of.

'Dante, I…' he mumbled, turning to face his younger twin, tasting blood on his lips.

'_**What?**_' Dante roared mockingly, stepped forward and leaned in, their eyes met, their breaths became one. 'You _**what?**_' Dante's almost blank eyes were hypnotizing, his voice became close to a laughter. 'The second I step out you got a random man to fuck?'

The devil hunter did not know what it was, speaking in him – shock, disgust, resentment or jealousy.

'Dante, let me…' Vergil tried, and took Dante by the shoulders in a weak attempt to make him listen.

'_**No**_, you fucker, I _**won't**_!' Dante shouted and the glass in the windows rang. He threw Vergil's hands off him and pushed the older twin towards the door. 'You bloody self-centered prick, what was all that crap? Huh? Tell me now, you heartless shit!' Dante hit the wall, his fist leaving a round web of cracks, the plaster fell down in small pieces. 'You fucking kept on hitting on me, day after day, you fed me all the I-need-you bullshit! Was it all a lie? You fucking jerked me off then… just… did you just need a freaking body to fuck? Do you do the sweet talk with every one to get laid, you egoistic jerkass? Well, yeah, for the first time I leave you alone – and you fuck the first moving body you see! You don't even know his name!'

'I never wanted to! …I was just waiting for you!' Vergil shouted back, the anguish of thinking Dante was with Nevan that morning coming back. 'Didn't _**you**_ go to the bloody bar to fuck that redhead bitch?'

'_**I couldn't!**_' Dante cried out on the brick of hysterics. 'I couldn't you asshole! I had my hands on the best boobs in town and my cock inside her and I fucking couldn't go on, you idiot, because I was thinking about _**you**_!'

Vergil looked at the fuming Dante, bewildered and absolutely powerless. The words eased his tensed heart and brought him a light warm feeling, but it was still meaningless. Everything between them was falling down.

'Dan-'

'_**Shut the fuck up!**_' the devil hunter's fist made Vergil back down and lean onto the doorpost. His cheek hurt. 'Yes, I went to Nevan, but I had to sort everything out! I didn't end up coming together with another man on you desk! You, whore!'

'Hold right there, watch your mouth!' Vergil threatened, straightening up and grabbing the collar of Dante's coat._ "But why the fuck did he go to her?._

_Does that mean it was me who betrayed him?_

_You idiot have no idea I was thinking I was with you! It's fucking sarcastic that I have to defend myself when I did nothing wrong!"_

"**But deep inside your heart, Vergil… As the Queen, I know. You just wish you could be stronger. You wish you could control **_**it**_**…"**

'_**Right, I bet on my new hat. We need to control it and to control it we will learn. The power of our father, Sparda…'**_

'Shut up, you!..' Vergil shook his head to get rid of the voices and glared at his younger twin. 'Just what was so important that you had to go put your dick into that cunt?'

'It was _**you**_, you fucker!' Dante hit the wall again, leaving another round web of cracks on it near Vergil's right ear. 'You started it all! I had to know how to deal with everything that happened between us! I am not used to liking men or fucking them, you know? Unlike you, I'm not gay! And I was not okay with you in my bed! So I needed Nevan to know how I really feel about you!'

"_You were thinking about how to react… In the end, I worried over nothing."_ Vergil was relieved.

'That all?' he laughed lightly, astonished at how stupid their fight was.

'_**All?**_ You know nothing!' Dante grabbed Vergil's wrist hard enough to bruise and dragged him along the corridor to the stairs. 'You show up, like everything is fine, looking for me to ask for my bloody help! You, Vergil, looking for the devil hunter Dante, how fan-fucking-tastic! I help you out and – look! Your hands find their way into my pants! Just terrific!' Dante pulled the stumbling confused Vergil downstairs, across the empty sun-lit lobby and to the front door. 'You have decided you want to do it… I am bloody straight! I _**like**_ boobs, long legs in high-heeled shoes, I _**like women**_ in stockings, I _**like**_ their lipstick, I _**like fucking girls**_! And you just have to bloody drag me into sex after I come back from Hell and my brain is in no condition to protest or even analyze anything for that matter!'

'But all this-'Dante pushed his older brother hard against the door and went on, not letting Vergil even say a word. 'Is _**total bullshit! **_Because there is one thing that is much more important.

You know what? I actually didn't have sex with Nevan. Yes, we tried to, but stopped mid action. I couldn't 'cause the memories of yesterday were eating at my mind and all I could think was – why did you do that? And since I was still tired after my little trip to Hell, I fell asleep on Nevan's bed – with no answer. And I bloody woke up… to find you nowhere! I thought you were captured or in trouble… I thought they found you and… I thought you were tortured or murdered! I fucking devil triggered, running here! And you know what is the most outrageous?' Dante's voice lost its strength because of the shouting and was now not velvet-low, but hoarse and broken.

'It was for you, who was so enthusiastically fucking my friend on my own bloody desk.

For a split second there, lying on Nevan's bed alone, looking at the sky, I thought I might give it a chance. But now I see that was all so~ stupid!' Dante snickered out of sheer sarcasm on himself.

''Cause seriously? You and I – _we._ Can. Never. Be.' He looked intently into the light-blue eyes of Vergil, who was silently standing in front of him, and Dante just let his lips move and say out the inevitable:

'Cause I am your fucking brother.'

Dante's voice died out.

Vergil clenched his fist and hoped that his brother didn't notice him paling and shuddering.

"_Bloody dolt, if he said this, he means to end everything…"_ Vergil knew that this minute would come, but he never thought that he himself would be the trouble that caused his only chance of getting close to Dante to disappear.

"_If only I could take back what I said, if only he would listen to me…How can I tell him I believed it was him in my arms? No sane man will trust my words now…"_

Vergil wanted to close his eyes, but he was afraid to lose contact with Dante, so he kept on staring at his younger brother, slowly feeling the disaster unwind.

'I am the one, whom you hate the most.' Dante went on in a whisper. 'I am the one for the death of whom you want to go on. I am the one and only person in this bloody damned god-forsaken world that you would want send to Hell over and over.'

"_I could never understand how your messed-up mind could think of the devil hunter Dante as a last resort. Let this sad fairy-tale end." _Dante knew that sense of desperate determination. It followed him every time he fought his older brother, every time he was not sure – whether to fight seriously and kill him if there is an opening, or hold back and be killed because of not fighting with everything he got. Yet the fighting itself was inevitable.

"_You are wrong, Dante. Don't say that! I don't hate you – not anymore. Your words would be true several days ago, but you yourself, didn't you do everything to change that? Better than anyone I know the nature of my hatred for you. But better than anyone I know now that there is much more to it.' _Vergil licked his lips nervously.

"_I should just tell you that you are wrong, I should just embrace you despite you fighting back…"_

But Vergil stayed motionless, paralyzed by Dante's words and his younger brother's hollow stare, by his trembling lips and his strong hands gripping Vergil's wrist, where five purple bruises had already blossomed.

'I am the one and only source of your misfortune,' Dante spoke clearly and it intimidated Vergil as by his younger brother's serious frown and his steady sure voice he knew Dante believed every word he said. 'I inherited the power of our father that you so desire. I killed our mother. I destroyed everything you had in this world.'

"_It was not you, Dante! Why don't you see it? It took me long to learn it, but… you know it wasn't your fault, so why do you admit it regardless? Don't!_

_Everything I lost was only the fault of my own weakness. If I would blame anyone, I would blame myself._

_But I wanted you to tell me, what you remember of those days… You are not the monster I believed you were. I have so many things to ask of you. And so many things to tell you…"_

"_Verge, we both lived through a lot of sorrow. Yet no memory of the past is as sad as the words I hear from you in the present. There is nothing as painful as what you do to me now."_

'It's true, I hurt you.' Dante closed his eyes for a second, as if working up the courage to say the words that then spilled from his lips.

'But you, Vergil, – there is nothing that ever hurt me more than you had.'

"_Yes, Vergil, the you that stays by my side hurts even more than the you that hates me…"_

'So I don't fucking want it anymore.'

"_Enough."_

'I don't fucking want _**you**_ anymore.' Dante opened the door, tugged his older brother by the shoulder and shoved Vergil out.

His older twin was not saying anything, only looking at him silently, white hair tangled by the wind, blue eyes rippled by sadness. His expression looked so very familiar, and Dante noted absently that it was the same face he saw in the mirror the day after his older brother left him.

'Take it, the damned car that I dyed the colour of your eyes. Take it,' he fished the keys out of his pocket and threw them at Vergil, who caught them automatically as they hit his bare chest.

'Go Vergil.' Dante's eyes were pale, he was looking much older; there was some kind of tiredness in his gaze, his features and in every move of his strong confident hands.

'Go. And never come back,' Dante whispered and slammed the door close.

"_Dante! Damn! To shout, to hit the door, to scream at that idiot! To kick the door out, to grab his stupid head and to look into his eyes, to tell him at is all a misunderstanding! To talk to him until he wants to listen, to talk to him until the lungs are dry and the voice is no more!"_

Vergil stood in front of the door, three metal keys on a ring in his hand. Several slow seconds passed, he turned and walked away.

"_Forgive me, Dante, for I know not how to be with you… If I reach out for you now, will I just ruin everything? Can it become even worse now? The more I want to get close to you, the more I hurt you… I know. Whatever I try, I only push you away. I know… "_

'Idiot,' Vergil bit his lip tasting the blood again, but it helped to hold back the bitterness that threatened to roll down his cheeks in the salty lines. 'I know already… I know, brother…'

'He kicked you out, I see.'

Vergil slowed his pace and looked up to see Sunshine leaning onto the corner of the building that housed Devil Never Cry, his black clothes back on him: the shoes, the trousers zipped up but the button undone and the shirt just slipped on his shoulders. He was holding a cigarette with his two fingers and a thin grey line of smoke was slowly floating up.

The older Sparda came up to Sunshine and stopped in front of the barman. He wanted to punch the man, but the common sense told Vergil that the blond was not the one at fault.

'Give me one,' the Dark Knight sighed. Sunshine's hands found in his back pocket a lighter and a pack, which he opened and offered it to Vergil's slightly trembling fingers. The older Sparda's dainty hand took a long slim cigarette and brought it to his alluring cherry lips.

'It's been long since I had to smoke in order to regain my peace of mind,' those lips mumbled.

'I bet; you being the cold bastard you are,' snickered Sunshine and held the lighter out for Vergil.

The small orange light flickered and disappeared, the acid smoke filled Vergil's lungs, its poisonous taste on his tongue.

'Shut up…' the older Sparda bit out and walked, one tired step after another, around the building, heading to the back garage door.

'I know it's not my business…' Sunshine followed him and walked beside the Dark Knight.

'By all means, whatever it is, your business it is not,' Vergil cut him.

'Yeah,' the barman snickered, but ignored the dangerous notes in Vergil's voice. He let out a cloud of smoke that dissolved into a ghostly haze. 'I can understand wanting another man – your humble servant here guilty of that one. But, you know, to mess up your own brother… And a twin, at that. Are you a narcissist? Well, with your attitude, you must be. But it still amazes me how similar you are. Absolutely identical…'

'It's different…' Vergil grunted. _"Dante is Dante. We are different."_ 'Dante, him I don't…'

'Yeah, you tell me.' Sunshine rolled his eyes as Vergil took hold of the round metal doorknob and went into the garage. There was a sound of the switch turning and the garage door crawled up, revealing the sleeping azure Jaguar, still in scratches and blood stains. 'You try telling that to the one whom you came in as soon as you heard him. You are frigging crazy about him. But… I wonder if you ever saw anything past his power'

"_True, I started seeing him because of his power, didn't I?" _Vergil could still see clearly - in front of him, Dante sat on the desk, his sky-blue eyes were clouded. He hesitated, then threw his white hair out of his face. Then his younger brother was standing in front of him, the serious frown and the steady sure voice of his proving – Dante believed every word he said. Every cruel accusation Dante turned at himself. His younger brother's hollow stare, his trembling lips and fingers gripping Vergil's wrist. Dante's pale eyes, the tiredness in his gaze, in his features and in every move of his strong confident hands.

'Arrogant,' Sunshine started counting one by one. 'Strong, self-assured, bitchy, willful, moody, stubborn as hell, obsessive…'

'Dante…' Vergil's lips moved in a single familiar motion, pronouncing the name of everything he was thinking about.

'No, I was talking about you, actually…' the barman snickered, leaning onto the wall as the older Sparda sat in the car, fumbling the keys.

'We are not that alike…' Vergil's voice was once again even. He threw the ashes down, spared the cigarette one last glance and with a flick of his fingers sent it flying onto the concrete floor.

'Of course you are. Two peas in a pod, and two yummy ones I must tell.'

Vergil frowned, not willing to go deep into thought when he was not sure of his further action. And he didn't want to discuss his private matters – matters that concerned his family, his brother – with the damn barman who brought him that misfortune.

'Whatever,' the older Sparda concluded, his low confident voice telling Sunshine that the conversation was over.

Vergil looked at the bunch of keys to find the one for the car, and he suddenly stopped, as among the new ones, there was an old black iron key with a long thin blade and a curved bow with an intricate design in the form of a lily.

'Who would have thought,' the cold weight of the key in his hand, he felt like he was born into the fight again, as he was the heir and he was the Dark Knight. Vergil was astonished, and his heart felt the happiness he had long forgotten. 'Still full of surprises, right, Dante? The key to the old mansion, you had it no matter how many years passed. The key to the greatest splinter of the power of our father – to the locked-up legacy of the legendary Dark Knight Sparda.'

...

'Uh,' Dante rested his back at the door, but strength left him and he slowly slipped to the floor, resting his forehead against his knee.

'It wasn't your fault.' He whispered to the brother whom he had just chased away. 'It was mine for believing every word you said.'

The agency was empty and cold yet stifling. There was not enough air for the devil hunter to breathe.

"_I sent him away. Why? I always wanted us to stay together. Did I make a mistake again? He had this plain look on his face like he had died inside and nothing was touching him. There was that indifferent stare. I wanted so much to hear him make excuses. I wanted him so much to stop me. I wanted so much to hear him knock at my door. He walked away, didn't he? But that is what Vergil does. That is so very much my prideful noble brother…"_

Dante needed something to ease the pulsing knot of the barbed wire in his chest, to warm up the ice-cold hands and feet, to stop the trembling in his shoulders. To stop the storm of thoughts from roaring in his unwilling mind. To stop thinking for now, to make the pain go away.

"_That white is still left…"_Dante jumped up in a nervous fit of energy and ran upstairs into the bedroom, very sure he still had some cocaine left.

He hit the door open, it hit the wall with a lout thump – and the devil hunter leaped over to the lower drawer of his desk.

Suddenly the thoughts stopped, and he noted, just a fleeting small observance, that it was too early, he still haven't taken the stash out. Then he felt very light and something warm and liquid crawled down his temple as he fell to the floor. Something forestalled him and saved his consciousness of the inevitable self-destruction by delaying it.

"_It's good that I sent Vergil away. He is strong, he will be fine. And I will be better if I don't have to endure…_

_I hope, Verge, that you won't forget no matter what – I will always be here for you, just like this time._

_Verge?.. I told you all that… but well… would be nice if you came back… you know?"_

The cool parquet floor was smooth and pleasant. The darkness that embraced Dante was calming.

'Yeah,' laughed Azazel as Dante's eyes closed and he lost consciousness, lying helplessly on the floor, white hair a mess, the red coat in a form of a red puddle spreading from his back like a wing or a trace from a quick sword cut. The Wishmaster eyed Dante cunningly, scratched his bare back and threw down the bright orange brick he was holding in his hand. 'Choosing between a chandelier and a brick, a brick was definitely the better option.'

...

'Where are you going?' Sunshine asked when Vergil started the engine, a smirk on his lips.

'None of your business,' the older Sparda drove out of the garage and into the street.

'What about Dante?' the barman frowned.

'If he doesn't crawl to me in a couple 'o days beggin' to get 'im back I'll just have to go back an' give 'is ass a good spankin', ain't that it?' Vergil's smirk widened and became malicious. 'That's what that insolent idiot of my younger brother would definitely say, and however raw and dumb the wording might be, that is precisely what I will do. He never believed I would let him go this way, did he? Naïve brat.'

The Jaguar set off, quickly flew to the end of the street and disappeared from sight.

'Twin peas, huh.' Sunshine snickered. 'And I thought that was a serious fight. Now let's see who runs out of patience first, shall we.

Urgh! But I wouldn't be bloody letting that asshole of Vergil fuck me if I wasn't human! How can I fight a demon! Gr, I just had to agree! That jerk! When Dante comes to me for booze to get drunk silly tomorrow I will just mail his body to ya!' The barman groaned and started mimicking the powerful even tone of Vergil's voice: 'Go help me, Sunshine, oh, I am so crazy about my brother I am afraid to hurt him! Let me fuck you so that the stated above brother comes in on us –oh-oh! And no, I am not going to make things right now, I am too marvellous to be bothered, I will drive away on my newly acquired car. – Fuck you! You've made your bed, now you can lie on it! Don't lay me there, lie yourself, bastard! Yeah, right, don't drag me into your bed problems!

You owe me Vergil! You owe me very big time. And I will take my pleasure in making you make up for it, you bloody demon prince…

Demon ponce, rather.'

**...endo chap 19...**

Sorry, not a long one but (I hope) a tough one.

**Coming next: As Sunshine put it: who will surrender first and crawl to the other? Vergil or Dante? And what will Wishmaster do to Dante? We are getting to the real reason why I even introduced Azazel XD AND I will finally explain the Destine Devil thing)**

I AM SO FRIGGING BUSY! That's the reason why so lil text! Sorry((

Thanks for meeting my expectations with the reviews, that was really great! So many words! So many new faces! Mmmmmm, loves)

**OnyxHikari**I hope you get it now where does that imagination of Vergil's came from)) You sent me for a cheerleader dance with that in-char comment =*

**Marble** I don'tthink I introduced you to the story yet – so here is your welcome cookie with a cherry jam! =* I hope I don't disappoint ya!

**Angstwarrior** I welcome you as well! It's great to see there are new people who enjoy the same stuff I do! =* a welcome cookie fer ya with a lemon jam!

**Allie** Hey gurl! That was a lot of words XD really made me happy) heh I hope I don't forget to show the vengeful Nevan muhahah but she will have an opportunity in the next chap =P I wonder if I should make Dante never look at his desk the same XDXDXD BTW don't worry about nevan's fate, she will be satisfied with her position all right))

PS NO Dante won't be committing suicide NEVER AGAIN) I won't survive writing that. And it's kinda BTDTGTTSWIO kinda thing for him lol so I'll find other things to make him angsty. AND! It will soon be vergil's turn to be the angsty twin, so it will be his turn to suffer…. Starting somewhere from chap 22+…

**BTW! If anyone has any personal kinks and requests-try your luck and tell me, I might like them and make them real)))**

**My laptop died so i have probs with writing. Project temporary frozen cause i dont have anything to type and no net access((**

**See new chaps after July 10th.**

**=!=**

**its june 28 today and im going to the hospital. for long. they say 25 days in isolation await. id they permit me to have a laptop there - i'll work on next chap and give it to my friends to post. if not - sorry guys - health comes first.**

**but fuck me if i wont be able to give you lot a new chap by the 10th XD**

=!=

See ya.

Ethan


	20. Puss in Boots

...

**Babbling**

...

**Warnings:** Nothing much. Minor mental crap. NC-something for nudity.

**THERE IS ANOTHER WARNING. NOT TOO HARD, BUT I WONT TELL YOU CAUSE IT'S A SPIOLER. (see title)**

**Betad by Nimlinven! Hurray! **I so fuckin failed before her betain!

**I am so happy to have come back! !m!^_^!m!**

***all explanations to the delay at the end***

'Dialogue' "_Thoughts"_

...

**Chap 20**

**Puss in boots**

'Hey, you awake?' the laughing voice asked Dante, but he could just moan as his head was falling apart from pain.

'Whadda fuck?' the devil hunter whispered hoarsely. He couldn't move a single muscle, couldn't even open his eyes, the other's voice was the only thing in the black void of the world around him. 'Azazel?'

'Right, that's me. So, how are you feeling, little Devil?' There was an annoying giggling – the kind when you understand that you know only half of the situation.

'Cut the crap, I feel like my whole body is numb. What happened?' Dante grumbled angrily and tried to move his hand, but the muscles answered with a low pulling pain and didn't obey.

'You are not used to your renewed body, I guess,' the Wishmaster whispered smugly right into Dante's ear, the hot breath tickling his, a husky heated undertone in Azazel's voice that scared the devil hunter a little. 'My Destined Devil.'

'I am not your destined whatever.' Even if he couldn't move, Dante decided he could at least try to get the information out of the Wishmaster, so he asked: 'What the fuck are you calling me?'

'But of course you are who you are, sweetie,' there was that giggling again, and the demon must have sat beside Dante as the bed sagged slightly. 'You went to Hell and came out sane, which automatically makes you the Destined Devil.'

'Destined for what?'

'Destined to unite the Demon world and bring it back into the lost glory.'

'…the fuck?'

Azazel burst into laughter and Dante realized he must have looked real freaked out, a dumbfounded expression frozen on his features.

'The Demon world had not always been like we know it.' The Wishmaster ignored his question, but the voice of the demon became serious and slightly sad, like he held the memories of some other times no mortal could remember. 'Thousands of years ago, it was the Underworld, the place where every living soul wished to be.

The rivers of blood, the bleached ashen clouds in the burning crimson sky, the never-ending snow and the ice-cold fire were the same.

The demons then were different. They were the proud men of wisdom and honour – the gods of the Underworld. They were different from the angels and the gods of Heavens, who lived in eternal peace and calm and never knew any hardships. They were different from the kings of the humans, who lived in lies and treachery. The gods of the Underworld were warriors – the Knights, who fought many battles, who gained the trust and respect of their brothers by proving their worth on the battlefields and in days of despair, who led legions with a single wave of their hand; they knew so much of the world we could never start to fathom, lived as men of pride and died the men of freedom.

With time, their numbers became less and less. Fewer survived the years of battles, and in the end the Underworld was broken in two. Half of it became the Demon world of today, the other half came down and formed the Hell that was sealed. The only entrance to that place was entrusted to the last one of the gods of the Underworld.'

'Was it… my father?' Dante kind of expected the whole damn thing to end up tied to his infamous legacy.

'No.' Azazel snickered and gave him a flick on the nose which made the devil hunter sniff, then let out a silent 'Get lost, bastard'.

'It was the last Demon King, the father of Mundus.' The Wishmaster went on with his explanation. 'He was the last of the gods, whose task was to look after the entrance to Hell.

Hell – that is how the old Underworld lived. No demon of the new Demon world would be able to go through, so they started to believe that the birth of someone capable of challenging Hell will signify the rebirth of Underwolrd. A prophesy formed then, that once a demon would come and get through Hell, he would be so pure and selfless that the madness and terror of Hell won't touch him and he would come out alive and sane. That would be the Devil Destined to rule all over the Demon world, the one with enough power to unite it and lead it.

Over the break in space where the old Hell connected to the present Demon world, the Demon King built a palace and settled there, guarding a small round room with a door that leads to the white void of Hell. The King waited for the time when the lower demons among which he lived would become like the proud gods of the old Underworld he remembered. But for thousands of years no one dared come.

The Demon King became desperate and the worms of fear, hate and jealousy ate away his heart. He left the palace and never returned, absorbed in his crusade to conquer the Human world. The crusade that was ended by your father, the Dark Knight Sparda.'

Dante was for once pleasantly surprised with him not being the center of the mess, obliged to fix something his father had started, but then again the whole story of the formation of Hell took quite some efforts to apply to reality and to what he knew of the Demon world. 'So father was just another demon?'

'In the beginning – yes.'

"_Here goes. There is always an __**ending**__. And I thought I could skip the fix-the-mistakes part. What now? I already had some of this crap, did Sparda ever do something to help us, not to give us new problems?"_

'After the war, many years later, when you two were born, Sparda went to Hell to protect his children, and he was the first to ever come out of Hell alive. He was the first Destined Devil.'

'I remember it as if it had just happened.' Azazel chuckled and there was nostalgic warmth in his voice. 'He stood there, in that room, his body all wrecked up, blood flowing down onto the patterned black and white floor, torn-up chains going down from his hands and ribs, his hair a mess. I was going to tell him that finally he was the one with enough power to stop all wars, to unite the demons and control them, but he just snickered smugly and looked to the side, as if he had some marvellous idea he couldn't wait to make real. I went to the side to take a cloth and give it to him to cover his nakedness, but when I turned to face him several seconds later, he was not there anymore. After that no one ever saw the Legendary Dark Knight Sparda.'

'A flashy escape, can't blame him for it, really,' Dante smiled involuntarily, as he could see the picture clearly in his mind, the cunning expression of his father's so well-known to him, the same smile, the same small wrinkles on his face, the same bright eyes, burning azure ice.

"_The same as Vergil's. The piercing gaze, blue-framed black irises._

_I hope Vergil will be alright. He had left before, it's not like it's something new… I know there is no guarantee that he won't disappear like father, but… Damn. I sent him away. Damn…"_ Dante suddenly wanted to cry, as if he had stabbed his older brother and the dead body was cold in front of him.

'So now, you are the second one.' Azazel informed Dante in a very business-like manner. 'You are the Destined Devil, and I will not let you slip away.'

'It's like…' Dante jerked himself back to the problems at hand, leaving the Vergil-concerning problems for later. He would bury his brother, but not now. The devil hunter counted for himself: get power, unite the Demon world, get it to the glory. '…a whole lotta stuff you want me to do.' He tried looking skeptical. As much as it is possible for someone with his eyes closed and body paralyzed.

'Don't worry. You came out and it means you are much more powerful that any other demon. There won't be any problems.' Dante would bet the demon had some internal motive. The size, say, of Africa?

"_Fuck the power. I am not falling for this bait. It's Vergil's domain._

_By the way..." _It dawned on the devil hunter. 'Why can't you take Verge instead? He is so into that **power of Sparda**,' Dante's face spasmed, 'and he is definitely much stronger than me.'

'Well, technically, he is a Destined Devil, that's true…' Azazel seemed uhappy with the possibility, but he went silent and Dante concluded the demon was considering it still.

'Waita sec,' Dante suddenly had to make sure, 'do you mean he went there? My fucking older brother – to Hell?'

'Yes.' The firm voice of the Wishmaster stated, and Dante shuddered at the thought of Vergil going through what he had to endure. 'However, Vergil Sparda entered Hell after being manipulated into it, and I can't say he came out in good shape. He was sane, but the one who came out of Hell was not your brother Vergil, but the Nelo Angelo as you saw him with Mundus. Doesn't really fit the concept of being right in his head.'

'Mundus tricked my brother into going to Hell?' _"How much more fantastic news like this bull awaits me this morning? Holy… is it even morning?"_ Dante winced and as his eyelids were too heavy to have a look at his surroundings the best he could do was move his fingers slightly. At least he knew without doubt that he was in his own bed, naked but under the blanket. That could do. _"Besides, how the heck did I lose consciousness?"_

'Why, yes. Tricking Vergil - doesn't seem too difficult to me, with the Dark Knight's logical mind, he is very easy to mislead, and his desire for power is one of his best vices. Still, you are a better choice for being the Destined Devil. You jumped into Hell to protect your brother – an absolutely selfless act, and you came back injured, but completely yourself. And, well, I totally love it how your body turned out to be.'

'What do you mean turned out to be?' Dante knew the best piece of news was coming. Now.

Azazel laughed lecherously and two hands cupped Dante's chest. His soft uncovered by the blanket – breasts.

'Fuck me!' the mental shock made his demon blood boil and despite the numbness and dull pain in every muscle the devil hunter jumped up, opened his eyes and pushed away at whoever was touching him.

The attacker was proved to be the Wishmaster and moreover, to Dante's utmost horror when he pressed his hands to himself in a protective gesture, there were two skin-covered middle-sized breasts. Right there when he looked down at himself.

'Whaaaa! For the sake of every porn I ever saw! Who the bloody walking dead meat made me into a chick? I got boobs! I will fucking smash this wretched Wonderland! Alice wants to grow back all the right places! Waitasec, does it mean…' Dread drowned Dante as he let his now thin hand wander down to his now smooth muscle-less belly and to the area lower. There were the small curls of hair, the soft folds of flesh and – an opening.

'Aaaaaaaaa!' Dante shrieked and jerked his hand away. _Freaked out _could never start to cover the feeling he was sure he could never forget. Scared. Angry. Bewildered. Helpless. Dickless. _Castrated._

'You!' Roared Dante, enraged, as he noticed the Wishmaster sitting at the other side of the bed, the blanket in his hands. His never-changing mockery of shorts being his only clothing, Azazel seemed to be enjoying the arisen amusement and was eyeing the devil hunter with pure interest of a researcher who had just created a new guinea pig.

Dante's brain finished processing first that he could move around, then that he was a girl and had breasts and no dick. Then he realized it altogether at the same time. 'I'll kill you! Where is my cock?' The devil hunter decided against panicking and leaped over, straddling the Wishmaster instantly with his bare feminine body and strangling the demon with all his might.

'This is priceless!' laughter rolled from the demon's lips as if there were no two hands on his neck trying to cut the air supply. 'You definitely are reckless and fearless – or an idiot. One or the other.'

'Verge says it's the latter,' grumbled Dante and pushed harder.

'Well, might be the case,' the Wishmaster grabbed his wrists and the next thing the devil hunter knew his head hit the pillow with a soft thud and Azazel was pushing Dante to the sheets. The Wishmaster's body was pushing him down, a successful trap.

Dante tried kicking and tearing his hands out of the demon's grip, but all his efforts turned out to be futile struggle.

The treacherous flesh on his chest which Dante refused to acknowledge was swaying. "_Holy macaroni."_

'I thought you would understand how much weaker you are now. Seems I need to show you. After all, this body is part of the price for your wish. And this as well…' The Wishmaster's short blond locks, his green eyes, the fair eyelashes and the thin line of his mouth came close and Dante's lips connected with the Wishmaster's. A moist and unexpected contact.

"_By 'this' does he mean…" _this time Dante opted for panic. The Wishmaster who had been a nice falla before got quickly promoted to a threat-y male as Dante suddenly became very much ware of avery undressed body of another gender that was right against his own. The other body was edgy and solid, unlike his new soft one, and he appreciated it like he appreciated the blades of swords.

There was hard flesh against Dante's inner thigh and knowing full well what exactly that was, he became aroused. He was horny, yet without getting hard himself. There was nothing that could get hard.

Or maybe he did not know anything about women yet – and everything he considered his knowledge of the feminine body was not worth a hang – 'cause the heat made him arch up and into the strong male body above and there was definitely something of his own getting hard and sensitive. The nipples of his – okay, let's face it – breasts.

Dante jerked about helplessly, getting nowhere. _"But I'm not getting fucked by some guy I barely know!" _Annoyed and not muffled by the kiss anymore, he bit hard on the tongue that was moving along his lower lip.

Azazel moaned loudly, let go of his hands and fell back, covering his mouth.

The moment of freedom was enough for Dante, he glanced around his bedroom and noticed the silver chandelier for three candles on the bedside table. His fingers grabbed the decorated stand and with a swift swing the lower candle-holder connected with the Wishmaster's head.

"_Fuck that idiot that made me the Wishmaster who can grant every wish except for his own ones! And I can do fucking nothing if he has no wish to… Damn this chance that had to remind me… Anyway, you will stay a girl. And you will have to get yourself a guy. Let's see how it goes…"_

The last thing the demon saw as he was crumbling down to the floor were Dante's bare heels running away on old parquet floor.

The chandelier that Azazel abandoned for the brick earlier got its revenge.

…

Dante flew downstairs and passed the empty lobby of Devil Never Cry with the speed of a magic bullet. The only thought in his head was to get away from the Wishmaster and his power.

The devil hunter halted for a second however as he closed the door behind him and went into the street. The low tender sun filled his body with warmth of its rays. But the air and the slight wind told Dante that he was naked. Besides being a girl that is.

He slowly looked down, only the eyes, not tilting his head. They were there and it wasn't. There were breasts and no cock.

'Shit. Very deep shit.' There was no questioning where he was going the next instant._ "Nevan."_

Sighing, Dante straightened his shoulders, which seemed somehow narrower than usually, and headed for the end of the street, his bare feet on the cobblestones. The devil hunter let the breeze caress his hair and perked on with as much dignity as he could master.

"_Ignore everything and behave like you usually do, and they won't notice you,"_ Dante instructed himself as he approached a more-lively-than-dead part of the street, walking calmly even though he wanted to run – and fast.

There was something definitely lacking in his lower regions, so Dante was walking with his legs close, thus getting a rather good idea of how to swing his hips. With few men still noticing him it was more of a disadvantage than any help and he had some tough time fighting the urge to cover himself with his hands.

And the things he did not acknowledge – the breasts were awful! There were much smaller than any breasts Dante saw in porn but Hell those seemed enormous. With every step the flesh was moving slightly, and the faster he tried to walk, the worse it got._ "How do the girls even run with these? I mean, last time I saw Lady…I think I just started to respect women…"_

Most of the rare visitors of the street were too busy with their own thoughts and worries to pay him any attention and Dante was lucky to get to the Incubus practically unnoticed. Two or three men saw him, smirked and let out little laughs, thinking, perhaps, that he was another thoroughly fucked whore getting around through the back streets to hide.

"_But I don't look like a whore. I am handsome – I mean, pretty. I have a trained body. So heck. I have no bruises. I am not injured, except for a headache, because that bastard hit me on the head. The muscles are sore, but it makes sense since that bitch of a Wishmaster changed my body… okay, first I have to be presentable and get some clothes and weapons. Then I go to kick his sorry ass and get my body back."_

The thought of never getting his male body back was too scary and Dante tried not to think about it, yet one thing made him overcome fear and face reality.

"_If I stay a girl, I won't be Vergil's twin anymore, will I? Will I still feel him when he is near? We won't have the same bodies… Even the face, those would be slightly different, right?"_ There was a light spark of sadness. _"I guess, having exiled him from my life, I pay by being stripped off of everything that connects me to him. Will I lose everything but my memories?"_ Most of the memories were bitter. Ice-cold. Painful.

"_Whatever._

_As long as I don't kill him._

_As long as I stay alive to be by his side when he is lost._

_Yeah, truly stupid of me. And I thought self-sacrifice was the last bloody thing on my character's traits list."_

'Hey baby!' A whistle and a laugh reminded Dante none too gently that there were more urgent matters at hand.

He was standing in front of the pink neon lights of the strip bar and a huge black guy in a suit was staring at him, the other three men behind expectantly eyeing the girl in front of them.

'Oh, man,' Dante stroke a fuck-off-you-out-of-my-league-bastard pose, one hand on the hip, the other loose, making his shoulder into an effective angle. Never mind being barefoot on the cobblestones, it seemed to work. 'Not you too, Black Jack. Come on, dude, I am just getting' into a bar that I could own by now with the amount of money I give you shitheads for my daily booze. So stop staring an' say I can go in.' The devil hunter drilled the black man with a glare. _"Did I just forget I am practically another person?"_

Black Jack took several seconds to recognize the speech that could belong only to one of his best customers. The words came out of a pretty cherry mouth of a young gorgeous girl who stood naked before him.

'Are you by any chance…' Jack was just an ordinary security, bulky and tall, the suit his everyday uniform, but he had some brains in his skull. He was punctual and – scrutinizing. So he checked the good physique, the white messy hair, the insolence. '… Dante's relative?'

"_Wow. Clever – for him. I see how he survived with the demons. Didn't see that one coming,"_ Dante smirked. He didn't have to think up a cover anymore.

'Vergil's ma bro,' he said, a slight tone of pain barely audible. 'Canna go inside, man? And gimme a smoke.'

'Um, sure,' Jack threw his cigarette to the bin – he was going back to work from the break – and gave a new one to Dante. He took out an expensive metal lighter, a present for working at the bar for over five years, and held it out to the devil hunter.

Dante lit the cig up, his lips closed around it – four men followed his every muscle move. _"I guess this is why women don't go around topless, let alone naked."_ He inhaled. It was supposed to calm him down but he almost choked on the acid smoke. _"Damn the new lungs! I'd rather have my ol' good body which I know how to deal with, asshole!"_ And he killed the Wishmaster. Mentally.

The security man checked the girl out again. Dante could practically feel the slime of lust on his skin.

'I hope yar fine with me… smoking inside.' The devil hunter opened the door and went in gracefully displaying his bare ass. _"Don't ogle my – ew – breasts."_

Jack coughed and shooed the other men away, showing how he was not getting his money for nothing. Then he followed Dante inside.

"_Now my back. Come one, can you stop thinking about my body? Are all men like that? What am I thinking… anyway, I'm hot. And no one is getting a bite. Ogle however you want, you own nothing. At least my butt should be the same nice thing."_

Dante went into the half-packed club. Same shameless sluts on the sofas and the young couples in the corners. Indeed, the sun was low and it was almost club time.

The day was almost over. And where was he?

He started in his own bed, waking up to see Vergil in his agency. His brother back to him. And he almost had sex with that brother.

He was messed up, went to Nevan to see if it was just the lack of sex, but found out it was Vergil.

Came back to find Vergil having sex on his desk with his old friend.

Threw Vergil out.

Now he was on his own, turned into a girl, helpless and exhausted. Alone.

He should have listened to Vergil – he wanted to tell Dante something, didn't he? He should have stayed with Vergil when he was in the bar. Maybe, take him to Nevan, maybe just have a glass of booze together. He should have talked to Vergil in the kitchen about everything, not save all the doubts for himself. He should have woken up earlier. Vergil slept in his bed with him, didn't he?

Note to self: never leave Vergil or let him out of sight.

"_Seems like I learned the lesson the hard way."_Dante frowned on his way to the counter where Sunshine was not so shiny. _"I sent Verge away and it means he is not coming back, but let's see what can be done."_

'Hey,' the devil hunter grunted gloomy.

'Can I help you, my lady?' the blond barman looked his everyday welcoming self, except that now one could tell he was just being polite and there was something on his mind. He lifted an eyebrow when he saw the naked baby-kind of girl before him, but played a gentleman and held back all the glances and comments. Like the gay he was. Which annoyed Dante to no end:

'Apart from keeping from letting my brother fuck you in the ass? Yeah, how about you tell me if Nevan is here, you little shit,' the white-haired beauty smiled charmingly, showing the not so human fangs in his smile.

'Fuck me,' whispered Sunshine and swallowed slowly. 'Sorry, look... Are you?..'

'Yes. Is she here?' There was dead-serious look on Dante's face, his female features sharp and eyes piercing.

'Already got her performance. In her room.' Sunshine barely made himself look Dante in the eye. 'How did you?..'

'Call it a curse,' the girl grabbed a cold glass with vodka that was supposed to go to some other man and downed it. 'Yeah.' Dante licked his lips. 'Now I have to dispel it.'

A thin female hand slammed the glass down onto the dark wood of the counter with a loud thud, too strong for an ordinary girl. Too fit and trained for an innocent gal. Too messy and impudent for her own good. Too angry at herself for everybody else's well-being.

'Dante, huh.' Sunshine sat down on a chair, relieved when the devil hunter's new female body vanished into a _Staff only_ corridor. '_Demons…_I guess, they can do that to you. Never ever am I getting myself near a demon.'

…

Nevan was changing her make up from bright and aggressive which she used for performances to stylish and exquisite which she preferred for her evenings. In her blue room, in the evening sunlight she was sitting at the carved dressing table in her silk night-dress, looking in the mirror, a small box of eye shadow of all shades of green in her hand.

There was a short knock on the door and it flew open. The fast steps came in and the door closed once again.

'Welcome back, Dante, son of Sparda,' her hand moved habitually and a dark emerald line covered part of Nevan's left eyelid. 'Sure, come inside,' she voiced a late permission to enter.

'I kinda need your help.'Dante went straight to the point and leaned against the door, crossing his arms – facing an obstacle of his breasts. 'I will hate breasts for the rest of my life, I think.'

'Why, did you have some bad experience?'

'I am having now.' Dante grumbled angrily and sighed.

Nevan lost the trace of his logic and turned to have a look at the devil hunter. For a mere moment she was silent and froze, then turned back to the mirror and with another swift motion there was an emerald line on her right eyelid.

'Is it as bad as it looks?' the demon asked, tone even.

'Ya bet!' Dante snapped. 'I came here from Devil Never Cry, all the way naked! I thought it would fuckin' kill me! There were guys ogling me and thinking I was some whore! And I got these annoying breasts, and my nipples itch, and the flesh freaking sways…'

Dante strode from the door, heavy lazy steps, and threw himself onto the bed. He relaxed and looked at the ceiling, then at the window. That window would always remind him of Vergil.

'I don't have a cock anymore!' the devil hunter suddenly sat up, thin fingers fisting the blue velvety covers angrily. 'I don't have my dick! I can forgive the humiliation, the breasts – but my cock!..' He almost choked on his own resentment.

'I see you are yourself no matter what, my devil boy,' Nevan snickered. She closed the box, put it down and wiped her cheeks with a cotton pad. 'Well then, I can't turn you back, but I can look for information. Who did this to you, Dante?'

She was enjoying his torture as was everybody, Dante could tell. Assholed. Did he not have even one true friend?

The demon sat down beside the devil hunter and took his chin to have a better look of his female face. The same eyes, the lines of the face, however became softer, the small wrinkles when he frowned looked more elegant. The lips were more full. Made to be kissed and to suck. _"Sure, they thought you were a whore. A true master turned you."_

'It was that fucker, the Wishmaster.' Dante let Nevan study his face, then neck then breasts those be damned. His cheeks went slightly hot: he was not used to someone paying attention to his chest that much. Especially when he had his nipple hard and could not control it. 'He said it was part of the payment for the wish… the one I kinda saved Verge and myself with… You know, if it was not permanent I could suffer through it. But…'

'I will see what I can learn about your case.' Nevan released Dante from her grip. 'What can I do for you right now?'

'Give me clothes. I need to look presentable. And console me – I fucked up again and had a serious fight with Vergil. Won't-see-him-several-years kind of fight.' Dante lost heart and fell back to the bed.

'He will be back for you anyway,' the demon touched Dante's thigh for reassurance.

'You really think so?' He glanced her way._ "You are a nice woman, after all, Nevan."_

'Sure. He needs the power of Sparda that is inside you.' The red lips smiled, the bright lipstick. Was he to wear lipstick, too?

"_Power… fuck. Sure, who would come back just 'cause I'm their brother."_

Dante stared at the white ceiling.

_**Thus the power of the netherworld gods is preserved by the males of the higher will; and those knights who believe in the their masters serve them, and those female gods who choose to follow their masters lose the powers of the netherworld forever as they give away their powers for their master, as the Ultimate Gift.**_

'You think he will still consider himself my family if I don't have the power?' he asked absently.

'Who knows? With all due respect he **is** the power-crazed demon.' Nevan came up to her wardrobe, thinking hard of what could fit Dante. 'First, the underwear.'

'Choose my clothes good, Nevan. I am going to have sex.' Instead of the ceiling Dante saw the dark yellow pages of the ritual book he read three years ago. He remembered every letter now, as if he'd just read it.

'Aren't you going to Vergil?' the demon turned to check if she heard correctly, a black simple thong in her hand, the one she thought it was possible to make Dante wear.

'I am.'

There was a pause.

'Are you going to have sex with Vergil? You are a girl now, for fuck's sake!' Nevan threw her hands into the air. 'You never had sex with a man. You being a woman. You should have done it while you were a man! Today in the morning, instead of ruining my day! Or even better, yesterday! I knew you slept in the same bed as soon as I could smell you. Or, maybe, the first day he appeared in the Human world. You know?' the demon was ready to slap Dante for his stupidity but just threatened him with a fist, the black thong right before his nose. 'You should have slept with him when you two hit puberty – and you would have saved us all soo~ many troubles!'

'I am not going to have just sex with him, bitch,' Dante pushed her away, irritated, and came up to the wardrobe, opening it wide to see the dresses. 'I am giving him the Ultimate Gift.'

'What?'

'I am giving him my power. It's a ritual. I don't need this fucking power of our father. The only thing it brought into my life was pain. So now… make me a marvelous chick so that Vergil decides I am worthy of his time.'

'Shit.'

Neval took in Dante's appearance. 'It's good, demons don't have any hair on their skin, so your body doesn't need any preparation. Then, the clothes.' She threw the thong in his face. 'Wear this.'

'You won't make me wear a thong, woman!' Dante looked outraged and disgusted.

'First, you are a woman, too. Second, don't you want to make an impression? Shut up and put it on before I propose the stockings and the ribbons.' Nevan went to the dressing table and searched for the right colour of the eye shadow and powder.

'…Won't Vergil want to fuck you the moment you tell him you are Dante?'

'You crazy? I am not telling him.' Dante slipped into the garment and carefully spread the material so that it covered his private areas, still afraid to open his legs too wide. 'I will lie.'

'Shit.'

Nevan had to admit she always knew she won't have Dante in the end. 'Are you afraid of your body? You can not seduce anyone if you are not ready to give yourself to them.'

'I am a woman now, what do you want? I have a vagina instead of a penis, and it goes in instead of out!' Dante was trying to find the right position of the string on his ass so that it was comfortable for him. He was wriggling around like an eel, light lines of muscles under his skin, all flexible and sexy.

"_Seems like you can still seduce someone even if you are as elegant as a dead drunk sailor. I just hope Vergil recognizes you. He is a clever man… I hope."_

'One thing I am sure of, you can definitely give handjobs, since you know much about cocks. Wanna work with me here?' Nevan joked to lighten up the mood.

'I'll consider it if I get stuck like this, thanks.' Dante received the offer as an opportunity to find a part-time job, and it scared the demon slightly. Dante was supposed to be joking all the time. 'What do I wear next?'

'I chose a red dress for you, you'll like it.'

'You would make it better if it was not me who likes it, but Vergil… Wait. That is… I am not wearing that crap! Begone! It's a damned harness, I am not a horse! Hell no!..'

'It's just a bra, dweeb.'

'Fuck! Okay, just give it here, bitch.'

'You are **so** cheep.'

**...endo chap 20...**

Okay, here goes. Sorry! Sorry! SORRY! SORRY! *fuck me. Yeah T_T*

On may 10 I felt sick. May 18th I went down with a fever of 40C. May 25 I was in the hospital. June 8 I got home. June 15 I got healthy. Hurray I am healthy.

May 15 I fried my laptop's motherboard. June 15 to today – was working to get a new PC. Fucking 850Euro! (1100bucks) – it's a killer machine.

So forgive meeee, I am bad bad bad…

Here is a new chap. As soon as I got windows working. I will be working on the story further on.

Hope to see you guys T_T I missed you all so much! I wanna see your comments! It was the only reason I got the freaking pc so fast XD I miss your reviews!

(I will finish the story no matter what, remember? That was the deal! So believe in me.)

**misdoa** sad but true) hope you forgive your humble servant. i will be working my ass off!

**AngstWarrior **girlie im back! So cool to see ya! =* back to philosophical works! (you never saw sex here, right? *wink-wink*)

**meg** hey! Didn i do trish prying when they were in the room! Well, it wasn't much... but og well you did give me one idea=) bwahaha *evil laughter*

**Anonymous **(hee, write you nick or something, plz?) thank you a lot! Those were real nice words, first-rate encouragement! No dropping - promise. After my dead body. *flames of inspiration burning*

**OnyxHikari **You won't be suffering from curiosity any more - it took me so long so now i am all ashamed and i need to redeem myself. hopefully with lotse text)

**To those who wrote reviews to chap 19 - if i gave you an answer type a + if not a -.** i dont remember much about what was before the illness

I love you all! BBS

Ethan.


	21. Pussy in stiletto shoes

...

**Babbling**

...

**Warnings:** A little bit of nudeness and general stuff about a girl's dressing process. ^_^

(the tastyness is in the next chap)

**Betad! by Nimlinven and Tora-Karana! Gals did a great job! O_0 they even found misprints, nagging bitches =) but thats what i luv em 4!  
**

'Dialogue' "_Thoughts"_

_Flashback speech_.

(I wanted to make it bold+italics but it's hard to read (and bold is 'important words', so I didn't want to lose that formatting )

...

**Chap 21**

**Pussy in stiletto shoes (Little black dress)**

Vergil braked and the azure Jaguar came to a halt on one of the oldest streets in the city. There were no skyscrapers here, no offices, practically no passers-by or cars. The spirit of the old times was still alive.

Most of the houses here belonged to the founder's families, the descendants of which had moved away years ago. Their residences however stayed the same, the high gothic windows of their two and three floors the same dark loyal eyes, the stone gargoyles, lions an wolves the same watchers. The small gardens in front of the houses in the same iron lace of the fence with the granite poles and slabs of the paths leading invariably to the sealed doors of the abandoned dwellings.

Vergil went out of the convertible, the light sheathed sword in his hand, and closed the car door behind him, slowly and calmly. It was not very often, but every time he came to this place, he was afraid of disrupting the rest of time that was asleep on the grey cobble stones of the street, on the roasted window-sills, in the dark holes of the broken roofs, in the emerald crowns of the trees that lived for much longer than any human could have imagined.

Undisturbed by the wind or the vain humans, the memories of the times before time were here.

Vergil smiled slightly as he went towards the half open gate to one of the gardens. The car could have fit to drive to the very door of the house, but he didn't want anything to touch the ancient spirit of the place.

He felt a little bit discouraged that he was not dressed accordingly, his black jeans and shoes that he had to put on his bare feet were not a typical cocktail dress, but Vergil was sure that the old pine trees behind the fence would forget him this time.

He stopped near the dark granite pole, his slender fingers on the worn-out grey stone, to look at the bars of the fence, at the iron winding bodies of the ancient devils in the pattern and at the old court of arms in the center. He missed it so much.

The high pine trees stayed the silent guardians they were, a pair to each side, as Vergil stepped onto the path leading to the house. The needles of the pines grew longer with time, hoary with silver. The grass to the both sides of the path grew thicker and took the deep shades of emerald and blue.

He walked on, the heels of his black lacquered shoes on the uneven slabs, that were now divided from a smooth surface they once formed into a broken walk by the unstoppable greedy fingers of the grass carpet. The sound of his steps notifying crows, bats and sleepy owls who occupied the attic that they had company. But the birds stayed unruffled as they knew by instinct: the creature that came was the owner of everything they watched over.

The grass around the path ended and a small square opened in front of the main entrance. The granite slabs on the ground here kept more to their original design, spiraling around in the shape of the three suns with a rose in the centre.

In front of the descendant of the Legendary Dark Knight Sparda the three-storey house went up high in the glory of its arches and spires. Vergil stood looked at it, the curves and angles painfully familiar, imprinted in his memory with every day he had spent at this place. The house would be the same, no matter how much time passed, this was what he believed – a memory to last forever.

Vergil looked at the house slowly, cherishing every stone and every small crack… People could not create such anymore. Faced with plain shapeless pieces of slate grey granite the size of a chest, the ground floor rose up through the fingers of the jade moss like a natural solid rock, as if slowly rising from below, where the magma and the fire of the Underworld were pushing it up further to the sky. Was it his imagination, or did the ground really push the house up, Vergil did not know, but already a whole strip of the dark stone base of the building could be seen, uncovered with time by the grass and soil. Only the iron railing of the staircase seemed to hold onto its old place, sewing the house to earth. Those white marble stairs.

She always told them to be careful on the stairs, but his younger twin never listened. His shorts dirty with oil, his short-sleeved shirt askew, Dante rushed out of the doors, leaving them wide open, rammed into the railing and lost balance. The old sword that was sheathed in the younger Sparda's hands clanked and slipped out of the holder and in front of Dante, the sharp blade turning up on the stairs where his brother was falling.

_No, Dan-..! _Vergil leaped forward, desperately praying that his five-year-old body would make the distance of the six meters that separated him from his falling twin. _"Don't die! Don't fall!"_ Vergil shut his eyes tightly and spread his arms to push Dante away from the sword.

Vergil opened his eyes and saw his twin's face, terror written all over. Dante's fringe was shorter then, but the lips the same shade of cherry.

_Verge... Verge, please, live… say something!_

_Brother,_ he said, not really comprehending what was going on. There was something wet near his heart, and when Vergil looked at it, he was spread on the stairs, head down, the blade of the sword cutting through his back, through the spinal cord and out to the heart.

_Verge, you alive! Hold on, hold on!_ Dante took his older brother's shaking hands and gripped them tightly. _Hold on, I'll take it out. Please, bear with it…_

There was a sharp pain, and Dante had him on his hands, the sword left of the stairs, the blood flooding out of the gash onto the marble of the staircase. Next, Vergil was spread on the landing. His younger brother was sitting beside him helplessly.

Since then, Dante had always been very cautious with cold steel.

_I was so afraid, Verge… I'm sorry…_ Dante mumbled, and light drops were rolling down his cheeks, leaving wet trails, his hands shaking, but not loosening their grip on the older twin's the first time in his life Vergil heard Dante apologize seriously, from the bottom of his heart. For the first time he saw his brother cry.

Dante crying, he thought he would never ever witness that.

**'I'm sorry, Verge,' the Bloody Tears went rolling down his dirty cheeks, covering his skin with wide red streaks. Dante took the gun from the floor and put it to his temple. 'Sorry, Verge. The thing you wanted is broken. I am not usable anymore.' And looking into Vergil's eyes, he pulled the trigger.**

That was the second time he saw Dante cry. He could never forget the desperation and the moment his brother's soul broke down, as the azure sky of his eyes shattered and Vergil was ready to pray to every god not to see his younger twin's tears ever again.

Dante, crying.

'**Verge,' whispered Dante hoarsely, and his trembling hands were in Vergil's locks, holding his head carefully but firmly. The hotel room was blue with the light of the rain. 'I am sorry. Really, really sorry,' tears were welling in his eyes, blue sparks of raw emotion. 'I should have…' Dante pushed him close with his one arm, holding him tightly, the other hand tilting Vergil's head to the side.**

**'I should have stayed with you and protected you,' Dante whispered into the crook of his neck and Vergil shuddered in shock as a hot drop fell on his cold bare shoulder. Then another one, and they kept on falling down.**

"_I don't want you to cry, brother. I'm sorry."_

The look in Dante's eyes stayed the same since they were five, the innocent look of someone who cared for him.

Vergil felt like the worst bastard on earth.

They never told their parents of the incident. The demon blood healed Vergil's wound in a matter of several minutes, but it was pure luck the blade missed his heart. There was no trace on his body when the healing process was finished, but if he touched it, he could feel the scar.

Unconsciously, Vergil raised his right hand and covered his heart with his palm. His fingers felt the thin line under the skin.

"_Just like Dante, you never see it, but he is always there."_

Now the marble stairs were partly covered with moss and all in the thin cracks. There was no blood stain, but for Vergil it would always be a place where he first shed his blood for his brother. He hoped, it was special for both of them, no matter how old the house got and how much of it survived the merciless flow of time.

Further the first floor was rising, covered with much smaller slim pieces of granite of the lighter shade of grey, as if the mass of the house was cooling down – or freezing - the father the building shot into heavens. A great number of thin black columns framed the edges and the eight narrow windows in the arched niches on each of the wings of the building, forming the charcoal wire skeleton of the house.

On this floor, in the right wing, were the bedrooms. First couple of windows to the right – their first shared room, where they slept together. Dark green silk on the walls, ebony furniture. Heavy velvet curtains. Two similar beds across the room, at the opposite walls. Night talks for hours, and after they had a fight – Dante's warm back at his back as they slept together, fingers intertwined. It was cramped, but he could give everything just for the feel of that warmth and the smell of storm that Dante brought to his pillow, his blanket, to his skin.

When Vergil was six he wanted a separate room. He wanted to be independent, he wanted to be mature. Most of all, he needed space. He became different from Dante, and he knew it. Space for training, as he felt he was lacking the physical strength that Dante had, space for training with a sword, which was so hard to handle, space for studying, as Dante was a constant distraction.

He needed to be alone to feel himself, to know he was a separate being. It was hard, to learn everything that Dante understood momentarily and took for granted. It was hard, working to be better. But deep at night Vergil would have given all for that crampled closeness, for that stifling intimacy. In his new room, where the night darkened the blue empire monograms on the wall silk, when he was lying in bed all alone, Vergil knew that something was lacking.

Later, he learned that it was Dante. That feeling he had always had was the feeling of his twin, close, far, touching, separated. Admired, resented. Loved, hated. Hated.

**'I don't fucking want it anymore. I don't fucking want **_**you**_** anymore.' Dante opened the door and shoved him out. 'Take it, the damned car that I dyed the colour of your eyes. Take it.'**

**'Go Vergil.' Dante's eyes were pale, he was looking much older; there was some kind of tiredness in his gaze. 'Go. And never come back,' the door slammed close.**

Vergil sighed. Dante was in his agency, but even here, in front of their old house, with no one around, Vergil could feel the splinters of his younger twin's sadness.

The second floor had almost flat pearl-white arch-cut walls, onto which the second row of the involute charcoal columns climbed together from the lower level, the spires shot from the ground to the sky. In the centre of the second floor was the ballroom – it's four windows were higher than the others and it was the center of the house, finished with a figured roof with two spires that fit the centre of the whole crown of spires over the many ogival surfaces and planes and of the complex gable roof, baring its fangs towards heavens.

She insisted that they learned ballroom dancing, she wanted to make them fine gentlemen who would make her proud. With her death that noble goal crashed dramatically and they were a couple of miserable failures. Yet at that time in the ballroom they were learning how to dance. High vaults and the candles and two stubborn boys arguing who is going to lead. Awkward step by awkward step heels on the checked old parquet, on its volutes and circles, they held each other's hands with anger, messing up the rhythm. Fingers digging into the ribs from the back instead of lying steadily. Teeth grit to hold back the growls and swearing, as she was playing the black grad piano with self-forgetful inspiration. They never guessed that she saw their thoroughly hidden war.

One day they started to let each other lead, switching turns. One minute Vergil was leading, his younger brother following him obediently, like a perfect doll in his hands. The other minute it was Dante whose strong hands took Vergil around the ballroom in a whirlwind of the arpeggios.

She never danced with them herself. She only danced with that man – her Knight. She loved him to the point that Dante would pout and stay restless with jealousy. Vergil was feeling it, too, but she only said: _Once you will find somebody who will love you the way I love your father, so make those gloomy faces smile and dance for me._

And so they danced, perfectly letting each other be in charge of the dance in turn. The candles lit, the wax crawling down in liquid tears, the sounds of the piano fast, the night dark and the light wind from the window making them stay close to each other. A smile on Dante's face and his laughing playful glances. Messed up steps of the dance and Vergil was gracelessly falling into his younger brother's hands, his nose in Dante's crimson puff tie. The smell of the storm and rain, the smell of freedom. Like the night that was looking at them from behind the high arched windows.

Now Vergil was looking at the ballroom from behind the same glass, but the old drapes were down and all he could see were the old silver chandeliers with the burnt-out candles under the fluffy cover of the dust. Vergil was outside, but his heart had never left the house.

A great number of the stone demons of the kinds that were long extinct were jutting out of the solid construction of the house – the angels of death who shaped up the window-sills with their wings, werewolves who hung their heads from under the balconies, the dragon-like eels who were coiling around the columns and tying together the whole house.

All together the stone, the columns, the frozen demons of the walls made the house look like a palace of the Demon King. Which was almost true, since the house belonged to the Dark Knight Sparda. And now, many years later, as the older son, the Dark Knight was Vergil.

He walked up five low marble steps, his cautious fingers connecting with the iron railing, feeling the cold metal. The old ebony double door was closed firmly.

'Welcome home, Vergil,' he whispered to himself, and took the old key from his pocket.

...

The armchair was still comfortable, the upholstery warm now from his body's heat. Vergil sat in the cabinet, his bare back against the emerald velvet, legs crossed, his elbows on the carved arms, hands put down onto his knee, the black jeans too low on his hipbones for his liking, but there was nothing that could make him rise from his old working place.

The table was still full of paper and books. Vergil remembered it clearly, how he searched for different ways to enter the Demon world – to avenge her, to find his father. Why did not Dante want to go there? What was he thinking then?

"_I'll ask him, when we will be back to normal. But has it ever been normal between us?"_ Vergil looked at the dead black logs in the fireplace and wished for warmth. The chill was crawling up his spine and making him shiver, the cold touch on his bare skin. It was the wind, yes.

"_Whoamkidding. It is like when Dante was in Hell. The dread I never knew before. It is the chill of being apart," _Vergil threw his head back, relaxing his tensed shoulders. _"Here, in this old house, all alone. I know what Ihave to do. But there is also somethingt hat I __**want**__ to do. Will I be able?"_

It was already evening. Time was passing painfully, slowly.

"_Will Dante forgive me? I will need to talk to him…"_

The chill was unexpectedly fading away. Vergil sat up straight, pushing himself to change the pose with great difficulty. Before, he felt like he could stay frozen like that, in his old cabinet, for years. But the chill was chased away and the feeling was coming back, the one that said that Dante was nearby.

"_Can it really be that he came here?"_ It was hard to believe, but the Dark Knight never misunderstood that feeling. It was slowly approaching, like when his younger twin would be walking on foot, not really in a hurry.

"_Did he guess where I came? Quite probably, he wants just to get the key back. Or to kick me out. But this is my home as well, so I will not leave._

_As to the incident… I will talk to him if he wants to listen. Otherwise we will just shout at each other like we always do. And fight, maybe. I wish I had Yamato and not the White Gloom with me, but to fight the idiot of my brother, a more or less decent katana would be sufficient. Hm," _Vergil smiled to himself._ "Even after I discover so many new things about him, I can not bring myself to stop from sticking to my old attitude."_

The feeling reached the house, and with each step Vergil realized that his heart was beating faster, suddenly warming up his whole body. He was nervous.

"_Why exactly did Dante come here? I won't open the door for him."_

There were fast small steps on the marble stairs in front of the house, yet the sound of the heels seemed strange. Somebody knocked at the door.

Vergil did not flinch, even his glance stayed fixed on the open book on the table. The diagrams and medieval handwritings. Was he pretending not to be there? Was he afraid of facing Dante? Did he want to hear the answers to his questions in the sound of the shoes on the marble?

The visitor knocked once more, a series of small gentle knocks on the old wood.

Vergil sniffed scornfully at his own indecision and leaned back in the armchair, resting his hands at the arms, tracing the carvings slightly. _"I am not going to answer."_

There was an awkward pause.

''Scuse me, anybody here?' a female voice asked with suspicion.

Vergil almost jumped up.

"_A woman? It is not Dante then…"_ There was regret in his heart. Vergil was ready to fight, to shout, to spill blood, he wanted to set things straight with his brother. He was disappointed. _"What is she then? An enemy? A doll, just like Trish?" Vergil_ stood up firmly and snatched the katana from the table, unsheathing it in one smooth motion. The white sheath fell to the floor, the sound muffled by the thick carpet. _"What does she want?"_

'Is m-mister Sparda at home?'

_Listen Dante. I know you don't want Vergil to recognize you. – "Though I am pretty sure you will blow your own cover sooner or later yourself anyway." – Your ultimate weapon is your new body which is female, so he will have to believe you. But mind your language. You should not by all means speak the way you usually do. Also, in order to impress Vergil, I believe it would be nice if you could speak like he does. You have always been a good actor, now is the time to use it._

'Excuse me, please. But I have urgent business to discuss with the descendant of the Sparda bloodline. Could you spare me a minute of your time, if you please?'

"_Just who is that?" _Vergil strode out of the room into the hall and to the front door, ready to fight anything that was waiting for him there._ "She should be an enemy. We are only two, me and Dante, all others who know of our father are enemies. But why do I have this feeling then? What is that? I have this sensation, as if she was my sister…"_

Vergil took the door handle and came out of the house, swaying the sword to touch the chin of the person outside.

The woman jerked a little, but did not move away or scream.

'What do you-…' Vergil stopped mid-sentence as the person in front of him was human, but had the exact look of Dante. Or, rather, she had his own appearance.

The girl was rather tall, and her face was on the same level as Vergil's. White short hair combed back, just like his, the same shade of silvery-white, as their father's. Gentle cheekbones, the thin line of the jaw, the neat chin. Thin lips pressed together tightly, no lipstick, but the bright red colour said she had been biting them a lot nervously. The elegant lines of her nose, cheeks slightly bright as she had evidently walked a long way in open air. Under the thin white brows a pair of piercing eyes were looking at Vergil, the same blue ice as he and Dante had inherited. No mascara, no eye shadow.

"_Does she not care for the make up? It's strange to see a woman with no make up today… does she not care how men view her? She is not a common woman anyway, to come here of all places…"_

_Dante, I need to put make up onto your face._

_What do you mean you have to? There is no way you touch my nice white eyelashes with that coaly black stuff. Get away from me! And heck no, I don't want my skin covered with some crème. I don't want it to be covered with a pellicle of those chemicals, put them away!_

_Fine, you capricious bastard, how about a little eye shadow? Violet would suit you._

_Well. We could try that._

_All right, sit quietly. Close your eyes…_

_Are you trying to poke them out of me head? Nevan, darn, I can__'t fucking see anything!_

_Close your eyes moron and freeze!_

_No way! I can dress up, but forget about the make up, I am good as it is, I want my eyes where they are and not on the floor in liquid condition!_

_You are just too picky and capricious. You sure you don't have premenstrual syndrome? That would explain a lot._

_I don't! I can't have those!_

_Of course you can now._

_Just-… shut up. Just shut up._

'What are you?' the older Sparda managed, shaken to the core, holding the White Gloom's black blade not so confidently anymore. _"Her looks… is it a trick? Or did we have a sister?"_

The woman was quite young, a girl about twenty years old. She was not beautiful. Too tall for a girl, she had shoulders and hands a little too strong and her wais and hips were slightly too narrow. If she was dressed properly, one could pass her off as a boy. But she was dressed absolutely like a top model would be.

Her neck was open, a sensational line from her ears down to the collar bone and falling gracefully to the bare shoulders.

_I am not putting anything around my neck! No way, Nevan. What if the asshole discovers who I am? He will strangle me on the spot, so Hell no!_

Her arms were put together in front of her, thin and seemingly fragile, but Vergil could see those hands wielding a sword, they were strong and flexible enough. Her nails were neatly cut and had no polish, there was a lone black strap of leather over the girl's right wrist.

"_Where do you see such a stunning girl, not interested in her looks and not interested in accessories?"_

_No freaking accessories! Where do I put this junk afterwards? It's uncomfortable, forget it. Verge wouldn't care for it as well. I remember him complaining a lot about those. Somebody scratched his back with a bracelet and then, you have to put it all somewhere and stop mid-action, he said. Well, it was before he turned gay, but whatever. If I am to seduce him I have to remember such things._

Stunning, she was. She was a collection of imperfect curves and awkward angles that could ruin the image of any woman, but together she was a piece of art impossible to take your eyes off.

She wore a small black dress. The one that was long enough just to cover her panties and her ass cheeks at the back accordingly, and low enough to just cover her average-sized breasts, showing clearly, however, that she wore no bra.

_Um, Nevan. I see this red dress you have prepared for me, but I am not sure. Maybe chose something more… classy and not so obviously striptease?_

_Oh, boy, you will be the end of me some day. Okay, how about black? It will go with the black underwear and I don't have to look for a set different from what you are wearing now._

_Wait a sec; you are not saying I have to wear a bra under such a small dress?_

_That's not a small dress, smartass. Look here. See this black piece? This is what you are going to wear. And __**this **__you call __**small**__._

_Holy Moly! You think I will fit in there? No way… I mean, I walked naked to here but that dress would be the same as walking naked to Vergil. Which a totally different matter! I am not doing it. Period._

_Yes you are. You wanted to seduce him, right? So you are doing everything I tell you. There is a reason there are so many men who want me._

_Besides you being a succubus? I doubt it._

_I am not a succubus so shut your pretty mouth and get dressed. Now, wait let me have a look at your thighs._

_What for? Let go of my ankles, you have feet fetish? Don't touch the insides of my thighs! Get off! I'm girl now, there is nothing interesting for you between my legs!_

_Hm, lucky bastard. Do you know how many women would give everything to have the same perfectly hairless skin that you do?_

_Hmpf. Come on._

_I'm serious. But now that I think about it, come with me to the bathroom._

_What did you remember suddenly? Is there something I need to know about?_

_Apart from the bees-do-it and birds-do-it talk? You need to be cleaned up __**there**__._

_I don't! This body is absolutely clean! I haven't used it at all! I don't even… know how to use the toilet!_

_Well, one more reason to go to the bathroom with me._

_Now I think I start to really get it – I want back! Nevan I want back to my old body which I know how to deal with!_

_Can't help it yet. I'll look into the matter as soon as you are gone to Vergil, so sit here, take off your thong and spread your legs._

_You sound like a bad Casanova, and I am not spreading my legs. Now that I'm female, I am not spreading my legs for… Don't just do it on your own. Urgh… where is my dear cock…Don't stare, it's rude!_

_You need to be shaved._

_Wut?_

_Shaved._

_Why? Do you hate me that much?_

_I like you idiot, and it's the only reason I'm enduring you. Now, stay still and better remember how to do it. Next time you come to me crawling and seeking help I'll charge you. Real money, and a lot. Now don't fidget._

_You bringing a razor between my legs and ask me not to fidget?_

_You don't have a cock anymore, so what to be afraid of?_

_Crap, woman, you don't have to remind me about the loss of my dearest part every time. But you are right, wake me up when you are finished…hahhahahhaha!_

_Shut up! What's so funny fucker?_

_It tickles – hahahah!_

_God help me…Don't strangle me with your knees or you will lose your virginity to my fingers._

_No! Don't! otherwise the ritual won't be valid. Sorry, I won't laugh-…hahahah! It's just too much..._

_Laughed your ass off, didn't you._

_You bet. But now I feel like a shave Newfoundland. Totally exposed._

_You have your underwear on so it's fine._

_Um, Nevan? You know what?_

_M?_

_I can't stand this harness anymore I'm taking it off! Sorry for tearing up your bra but I just couldn't breathe anymore. It's fucking constricting, and it chafes all around!_

_Oh, I should have seen this one coming. Whatever, just get into the dress._

_You know men don't really appreciate all the buckles and stuff in the way when they are horny? I don't think Verge will miss the damned garment too much._

_No, he won't. But why did you just have to turn out so tasty as a woman? I'm almost jealous, you little asshole._

_Good to hear it from you. Now do the bloody zipper at the back, I can't reach there._

The dress on the girl would make anyone look like a whore, or would be ugly, yet somehow she looked like she was wrapped into that solid square piece of deep black velvety cloth that hugged her gently. She could as well put a string of pearls around her neck and go to the theatre, and Vergil was sure no one would dare even approach her in her silent confidence and almost noble relaxedness.

Below the dress were her legs, aristocratic long legs, slightly outlined, which meant that she probably had a rather trained body, but not overly so – just enough to make her look deliciously welcoming for long exhausting activities.

She wore glossy black stilettos.

_I can't make a single step in these! We have been doing it for twenty minutes already and won't be able to make it even i__f the destiny of the whole world depended on it. Nevan how can you even move around in __**that**__?_

_Hm, I think I've got an idea. Here._

_Absinthe? You want me to drink absinthe?_

_Take a sip and try once more._

_Okay… Mm, refreshing. Oh, did I tell you that this body is not used to alchohol?-…_

_Don't fall down immediately, stupid. Now, try… Fuck you Dante! Now __**I **__wish you were a man and not a chick! You bitch will be dead if you take even one of my man from me! Crap. I'll __**personally**__ kill the one who turned you! I don't need a fucking __**competitor **__here._

_Look, Nevan, I can walk! Wow, I feel so tall! Hehe, cool, I can walk! I feel like a five year old who had just learned how to walk!_

_Just get our you drunken bitch…_

_Stop laughing at me. You should pity me!_

_Go, stupid. You look good. Vergil is waiting for you. And I think that even if you never turn back to being a man, you will be fine. He will simply have to take care of you. Go, sorry ass._

'Vergil Sparda?' the girl asked not minding the black blade at her chin at all.

'Yes,' he answered in a cold tone, frowning. She was nor enemy, neither ally. 'What business do you have with me?'

'I came to ask you to take me as a woman, if you please.'

**...endo chap 21...**

Next chap from me! Posted as soon as had a free day off work! Hope you enjoy.

**PS. I PROMISE HE WILL BE MALE IN THE NEXT CHAP SO BEAR WIT IT FOR NOW)) btw note that he is HE in the previous chap, cause he is Dante even in female body. I am a true yaoi fan, yeah!**

**Coming next: to be or not to be? That is the question! Whether tis nobler to say no and suffer the slings and arrow of outrageous woman or to act and drown into the sea of troubles and by an orgasm end them? mehehehhee**

Well all the reviews i got now were from registereds folks, so i answered in pm))

Thank you for staying with me and for your wonderful reviews that inspired me on!

I love you all! BB

Ethan.


	22. Vice versa

...

**Babbling**

...

**Warnings:** NC yay! Fuck spoilers so no more details.

WHO THE HELL SAID THERE WAS NO FEMDANTE NC? WHO?

**Betad**** by Nimlinven oh-my-beta-goddess, laser-sharp razor-clean.**

'Dialogue' "_Thoughts"_

...

**Chap 22**

**Vice-versa**

Swaying the sword in a fluid habitual motion, Vergil emerged from the house, and Dante felt the black cold blade touch his chin. He jerked a little in surprise, but did not waver; he had now another ultimate weapon – his body – which was pretty much like Vergil not having his memories: now Dante could stand in front of his brother and talk to him like their past did not exist.

Dante was not himself – both physically and mentally. The new body now seemed not accurse but a blessing. But for Vergil's memory loss, Dante would have never learned the other, tender and caring side of his older twin. Who knew what he could learn now?

The knowledge that this care and warmth would be never turned to him as Dante poisoned the devil hunter inside, and he tried to block out that thought as it hurt him too much.

He was not himself, and he could afford some recklessness. Even more, than his usual self.

'Vergil Sparda?' Not minding his older twin's sword at all, said the devil hunter – to start the conversation as well as to seem more unfamiliar with his brother. Playing a stranger was easier than Dante imagined it would be, for the simple reason of Vergil standing topless before him.

After having his body changed into a woman, a male was a lot more attractive to Dante, all hard and strong, all angles and sharp lines, and having his older brother standing elegantly in front of him in the door frame, the devil hunter realized how demons must have impressed the humans.

Vergil was pretty much an ordinary man on the doorstep of his own house, but it was just an illusion. The easiness in his movement, the light steps that made it seem like he had floated out of the house, dressed only in a pair of black jeans that rode too low and hugged the lines of his body tightly, expensive polished shoes put on in a hurry, his hair a little messy, a sword in his sure hand, his flat chest revealed to the eye, the lithe body, the chiseled fine lines of muscles shining through his skin like the light of the sun shines through a rough but clear diamond. Vergil was positively shaggable.

'Yes,' Vergil said in a cold tone, confirming that he indeed was the owner of the place, but at that moment Dante would have made him the owner of everything and would have given him anything he asked for – just to hear his voice again and to feel it's dark deepness fold around and cover him like a heavy eider-down that you sit in outside on a starry winter night.

Vergil was frowning. He must have been taking in Dante's looks, and Dante wanted to hide and cover himself with anything at hand until he was in a big pile of junk. However the devil hunter knew he had to act cool and make an impression. So he imagined himself in his best condition and pictured himself flaunting in front of a very picky girl of high standing, preferably at some manner-crazed place like a theatre or, even better, an opera performance. So he had his back perfectly straight, his legs carefully together, his hands in front of him as if he was holding a clutch. For fuck's sake never was he going to ever carry a clutch, even being a woman and all. But he made an effort and turned himself into a no-gesture, frozen beauty, an austere and spick-and span barely tangible elegance.

As to imagining Vergil as a high-class picky bitch, Dante was not sure he was imagining anything there.

'What business do you have with me?' the older Sparda finally managed.

"_Dante. I feel Dante. What the hell…" _Vergil stared at the breasts. But for them, he was ready to call her brother, but the evidence was too obvious.

Dante knew he had to say it. Well, at least he could say it gracefully now, as his role was implying his royal upbringing and high social standing… or a social standing of a whore, with the help of Nevan's clothes.

'I came to ask you to take me as a woman, if you please.'

Vergil coughed in surprise. For a second his mind was blank at such a request.

"_What are you? And such a thing to request… is it a trap? Do they want me to let my guard down? Seducing me with a woman, it's stupid… And such an obvious trap, with this face of Dante's… Damn, I need to calm down. She is not Dante. Dante…" _A pained expression of his younger brother's calmed Vergil's wavering heart with a certain slash of regret. Then he regained his composure and gave birth to the most decent reply he could master at that second.

'It has been a long time since I had to resort to the services of any humans or demons of any gender who satisfy the carnal cravings for money, and you, young lady, do not seem like a being of such kind, so I am forced to ask you again.'

"_Wordy fucker of a brother," _Dante snickered inwardly. But it was all worth to see Vergil at a loss, since what the older twin practically did was repeat his question, dumbfounded.

'The Ultimate Gift,' – _"You moron!"_ – Dante explained. He carefully took the blade of the White Gloom and moved it to the side with his two fingers.

'But no one follows the rule today,' Vergil was stunned. _"What woman would give up her power willingly? Does she want to give it to me? Why?"_ During his long crusade for the legacy of Sparda, Vergil had learned one thing, the absolute rule. It said, that no power came for free – there was always a price to pay. _"Do they plan on seducing me with this gift of power? But they would never give up such a great piece of Sparda's legacy…they were too greedy to give the crumbs to their best servants, and they will not ever give the advantage in might to their enemy, to me. Is she really one of the descendants of our father, is it why she knows of old ways?"_

'If it would not disrupt your pastime, may I perhaps come in and explain myself more clearly?' Dante sighed, tired of playing cheerful and airheaded. He was too nervous to handle himself, he wanted to smoke badly.

"_She did not attack straight ahead, and she is willing to enter the house which is completely under my control. I should at least hear her out."_

'Yes, please, forgive me my rudeness, desperate times call for desperate measures,' Vergil put down the sword and stepped to the side, holding the door, to let the girl walk in.

'Why, thank you,' Dante nodded and trod past his brother into the hall. It was the same, except for the dust on the window sills, on the old black lacquered oak furniture – on the sofa and on the twin chairs; on the fireplace. The wall silk was partly torn down, but the left side of the room still had the aquamarine upholstery. The paintings in the carved wooden frames grew darker with time, and it was almost impossible to guess what they represented. Except for Dante it was not necessary – he remembered all of them: the portrait of a medieval lady, a delicate bunch of flowers, the landscapes of Hell that no one would ever find in an arts store anymore, and in the centre – over the first landing of the staircase, framed with two twin star-wells that lead to the left and the right wings of the first floor – the painting of a battle that their father treasured so much. He said it was an ancient canvas showing one of the battles of the old gods of the Underworld.

The girl went past Vergil, leaving a slight trail of the absinthe scent. She glanced at the room as if she knew it long ago, and headed for one of the low navy blue leather armchairs, then flopped onto it too easily.

'You smell of absinthe,' the older Sparda noted, closing the door and coming up to take his sit in a chair opposite of his guest. 'I see you invited yourself to sit. At first, you gave me an impression of a rather educated lady.'

'I deeply regret being hasty, young gentleman, but my legs could not stand the torture of these heels,' Dante crossed one leg over the other to show the spike heel. '…so forgive me my rudeness as I have forgiven yours just a minute ago,' the devil hunter glanced at the unsheathed White Gloom that rested on Vergil's knee. 'You feel like you have to stay armed in front of a girl like me? Oh, ph-lease,' Dante almost gave in to his usual way of speaking, but realized it quickly, 'I had to drink some absinthe to be able to walk in these abominable shoes and to built up enough courage to face you – and you meet me with a sword? As much as I appreciate safety and understand your concerns for anything that brings up your demon heritage, you have a woman here who wants to invest a rather significant piece of the power of Sparda into you, so would you mind being a little less hostile?'

'I am sorry, but not unless I hear some truly good reasoning as to why exactly you give up such a gift as our father's heritage?' Vergil gave in, he accepted the girl as one of the seeds of Sparda, but it made him angry. How could his father have had another woman besides their mother? There was absolutely no way that Sparda had a lover, so did it mean the girl was older than him? 'Why do you give up the power of our father, and why do you have it?'

'I got it because Sparda was my father. My mother, being a weak woman never lived to see me grow up,' Dante was almost trembling. He blessed his ability to lie, or rather, his ability to retell stories, leaving out everything that is to be left unsaid. 'The fact is, I got this power from our father… and I hate it.'

The girl in the chair frowned, bit her lip nervously and her hand clutched into a fist, like she was restraining herself from making an ugly scene.

'I don't want it.' Dante found it difficult to control himself. He was saying it for the first time, for the first time speaking out the thoughts that plagued him for years. 'Since the very beginning, all it has brought me was misunderstanding, hate and pain. I want to live like all the other people around me do. I am tired of being afraid, I am tired of constant fighting for something that I do not want, I am tired of taking care of the mess that our father left for us. I want to wake up at three at night and think about my breakfast, not check where my shotgun is. I want to open my door and be sure no one is going to fire at my forehead.

I decline to be seen as an heir to the power of Sparda. I have a name! I have a soul! I have a character! I am not an heir, I am myself. I want to get rid of this power that shadows my whole existence – and give it to you. As you collect the power of our father, you are the best choice.'

"_You collect it. You desire it, unlike me. So I wish that you get this power of Sparda that you want so much – and either shut up and be happy, or disgrace me, call me trash and leave for your own business and forget me. I want all this bullshit of our relationship to come to some kind of an end._

_All the promises I made to mum – I don't care anymore._

_I can not protect you like this. I can not stay by your side like this either._

_Let this be the last effort I make to fulfill the last of my promises. If this little piece of our father's power makes you even a tiny bit more happy, I can tell her I did my best…"_

'You are the best person to give this power,' Dante looked up and met Vergil's surprised glare and held it. 'Aren't you?

The girl was looking at him, and the older Sparda was sure it was another sibling of his. All the doubts he had – they were erased. He knew he had never before trusted anyone so unconditionally as he trusted her now. And it was not like when he saw Trish – this time it was pure and almost a gut feeling.

Her words, it was a revelation to Vergil; that his father's heritage could make someone suffer just because it was in their veins, in their blood. He felt responsible for everything that Sparda left in this world and even wanted to somehow soothe the pain that the power caused to the girl, but Vergil knew deep inside that he would not be of any help. And the girl, it seemed, was thinking of something very private. She was not finished.

'You can not protect some one if they don't want you to. You know?' Dante looked at the old carpet on the floor, on the shiny toe of his shoe. He could not say it looking Vergil in the eye, but he had already started talking and he was going to word all his fears and regrets.

Vergil shivered from the girl's voice and from the way her frame became smaller and her whole being was compressed into a small body in the chair, all spiky and hostile, like a hedgehog that awaits death but puts up the last fight. She started telling him something personal, something that had nothing to do with him, and something he never wanted to hear. He had no desire to listen to her complaints or whatever she was going to tell him. All those matters were of no concern to him, as all the matters of the Human world. He wanted to focus on getting the last pieces of the power of Sparda together so that he would be free from all his obligations and could start living his own life, for himself. Especially so when Dante did not want to see him… _"Dante…"_ Vergil's heart clenched as he could not make himself interrupt the girl.

'You can not be with someone if they don't want you. Even if you desire it with all your heart, how can you stay beside someone who only pushes you away? At first it hurts, then it does not matter, but in the end you become tired. Tired of wasting your efforts, tired of all your help being rejected and thrown into the dustbin. In the end, you can just watch as they hurt themselves and suffer. And I – I can no longer stand by like that. I have had enough of my own suffering and from the suffering of… the person who is… dear to m-me.' Dante shivered slightly. 'After I give you this power, you know, everything will be over. No matter how, one way or the other, **everything** will **end**. I will either be accepted for what I am, not for some power that I never wanted or deserved, but for myself, for my own faults and virtues. Or – I will stay despised – and die. But this ending, it will be **my **choice and **my own** action, not something decided by fate or heritage or demons or humans. So let me do it.' Dante lifted his head. A vulnerable but determined look stunned Vergil. 'Please.'

'So you have someone dear to you who is worth giving up this power. Do you even know how many-' _"How many creatures would kill to be in my position now. To get what you are offering… Do you understand the value of the Ultimate Gift, if that is truly what you are offering?"_

'I know.' Dante interrupted, and Vergil believed his serious tone.

So the older Sparda laid the White Gloom onto a low wooden table so that the sword rested between them, as a sign of trust.

'I see. I understand your position. Hm,' Vergil snickered in a friendly manner, his self-sneer was evident. 'I am almost jealous of that person whom you have chosen. I wish I had someone like you.'

'Don't you have anyone?' Dante asked lightly, feeling his eyes sting, but managing to smile charmingly. _"If I had learned something from you, Vergil, that is how to smile when you want to cry, scream your lungs out and die."_

'Who knows,' Vergil passed his hand over his face, then slipped his fingers into his hair and tousled it. 'It seems I have ruined the for-once-normal relationship with the only person close to me there ever was. Who knows if we make up? But then, if I was in his place I never would have sacrificed for myself as much as… hm, as much as he had already.'

'Good luck to you,' Dante said sincerely, turning his head to look at the window, too afraid to close his eyes or even blink. It seemed to him that one false movement – and the tears will roll down.

"_Fuck, Verge… I wish I could just stand up and tell you – it's me! Don't you know it's me, so don't be fucking envious, I am doing all this shit for you, so be a fucking happy moron! You ruined – you could have just said you are sorry, and I would have forgiven it a thousand times. Just… why did you never come back? Why are you so fucking proud, never doing anything for anyone, you won't even do it for yourself… Why do you say you won't do even as much? Why are you all proud and mighty in front of me and then you go around saying you are unworthy shit?"_

'You will definitely reconcile, I am sure the other person has already forgiven you,' Dante said finally._ "I kinda forgave you somewhere on the way…"_

'Who knows, he is my brother, after all. No one ever received so much pain from me, as him.' Vergil smirked bitterly, as he was admitting it. If it was not for that incident several days ago when he was rid of all his memories, would he had been the same bastard who was too busy with his own problems and self-pity to notice that he was hurting the only person close to him, his own brother?

'All the more reason to mend the relationship. You are family, aren't you?' Dante sighed. He was slowly calming himself down, and just breathing helped a lot.

'Probably you are right. After all, he had always been there for me no matter what the conditions, no matter what the consequences. You are right, I'll go see him tonight.'

"_Sorry, Verge, I doubt you will want to see me after what I want to do… I doubt you will find me, but I will let you know I forgave you… You little asshole, you should have known I could never stay angry with you for long. They say I am stubborn, but when it came to you, I was always the one to crawl to you, wasn't I? You damn jerk."_

'Concerning my matter...' Dante reminded his brother politely. "_I kinda expect a fuck, you know? What the Hell are we doing here all chatty and sappy, when I came here with a clear goal of fucking you and disappearing forever?"_

'Oh, yes. I understand your motives. It is an honour to receive the Ultimate Gift from you.' Vergil nodded with respect. 'As to the conditions-…'

'Can we do it now?' the girl interrupted hastily, leaning forward and fixing the older Sparda with a naïve gaze._ "I am not getting out of here empty-handed tonight."_

'Now?' Vergil did not expect such hurry.

'Are you busy? I came prepared anyway, and the sooner, the better…' Dante made a dismissing gesture with his hand and with a soft 'pffft' blew away a couple of thin white strands that fell down onto his forehead. Even though he did not realize it, at that moment he gave into his usual self perfectly, showing his nature completely.

Vergil knew this was a girl, just another seed of Sparda, but the small movement, the gesture of her thin hand, the position of her shoulders, her expression as she stubbornly blew at the white hair even though she could brush it away but was too lazy…just like Dante. Exactly like him.

"_Maybe these are the habitual gestures all us siblings have, but…" _looking at the girl, Vergil missed his younger brother. They had been together almost all of time until now, and he missed Dante so that it hurt. He missed the stupid jokes, the rough touch, and the warmth.

Vergil was staring at him, and Dante was nervous, so he licked his lips quickly.

"_Damn,"_ it set Vergil off, and the older Sparda let himself be rash and seek solace where it was offered. With an unsettled feeling Vergil noted as his common sense shut down and attraction, desire and sadness overtook him. His own actions became fast and sharp, too much so for him to be able to control. He just let the body do what it wanted – and let the mind drown in the pleasure it gave him.

Suddenly Dante was looking into his older brother's azure eyes, too close, Vergil was right in front of him, on one knee, his hands encircling Dante's shoulders like in slow motion to bury their fingers in Dante's hair.

The devil hunter gasped in surprise – and Vergil's lips were warm and not soft at all. They were demanding, as they always had been, but never had they been so hungry.

"_Dante…"_ Vergil thought desperately, trying to regain from the girl's lips the feeling Dante's gave him – unwilling, reluctant, but tenderly sucking on his lower lip when he tried to withdraw. It came surprisingly easy: the girl's lips were much softer and had the aftertaste of absinthe, but they wore the same kind of reluctance, like she was trying to hold herself back. _"Was Dante trying to hold himself back, too? From doing what? Was he that against this shift in our relationship? Was he trying not to run away? I wish I could ask him now… He was still uncertain, I should have persuaded him._

_Why am after him after all? True, I decided to stay beside him and try to learn about him… but why do I want him so much?_

_It is so bloody true that you learn the value of what you have only when you lose it. I want you back…I want Dante back, for myself." _It was the same wish to possess that drove Vergil to his brother's lips the night Dante came from Hell, the same wish that drove him to stay in Dante's bed, to go with his younger brother the next morning, the same wish of possession that drove Vergil into jealousy, to sex with the barman and to disaster._ "In the end, the fault is mine… but I will mend it, Dante. I will…"_ And he was kissing the girl feverously, oblivious to the fact, that his wish, as well as his care and tenderness, was showing in his every move.

Vergil was strange, demanding yet restrained, rough yet attentive. His lips were brushing Dante's lightly, then attacking him angrily, yet Vergil always stopped as Dante tried to give in and break their liplock open to taste the familiar hot, moist bliss.

The older Sparda halted, like he remembered something, and moved a breath away, breaking the kiss into their pants.

Louder than any drumbeat in a club – Dante's heart was beating in his ribcage. The whole room was suddenly full of noises: with a soft soothing sound Vergil leaned in, the jean cloth of his leg passing Dante's naked calf; the older Sparda's naked ribs brushed past Dante's hip, skin on velvet, and his arm embraced Dante's waist in an ensuring circle, leaving Dante's both legs at the side; there were Vergil's fingers in Dante's locks and the tender whisper of them slipping through the older twin's light grip caressed Dante's ears at the same time as Vergil's puffing breaths were caressing his slightly trembling lips. Everything was suddenly living, breathing, making this mezmerising symphony of noises and shivers, moving constantly. Vergil's hands touched Dante's shoulder, ran over his arms, then found their way to Dante's neck and chin, cupped his face.

Vergil was seeing Dante. It was not the same as with the barman before as he did not need anymore the hallucination his mind produced that morning. The girl was Dante's perfect reflection, so the older Sparda just took in her looks and perceived her as Dante. Somewhere deep in his mind he knew it was just a female half-demon with the same face. Somewhere deep inside his heart he was sure it was Dante.

Vergil did not have time to find out whether his mind or heart was right. He was a logical person, so he accepted the fact that the girl is a stranger and then threw that thought away with no remorse to feel the bliss of having Dante by his side. The knowledge of that body just being a look-alike gave Vergil the feeling of safety. Whatever it was he said to this 'his temporary' Dante, was just crazy talk of a demon in heat to the owner of the body. No harm done and no need to explain his exclamations of love and hate.

'Want you,' Vergil whispered huskily to Dante's reddened moistened lips. He then suddenly and swiftly snatched the girl from the armchair.

'Yaykes!' squealed Dante and clutched at his older brother's bare neck, as Vergil was holding him around the waste. 'You idiot don't frighten me like that! You fucker you could have warned me, asshole!' Dante hit his brother on the back accusingly but calmed down quickly. Their evening was taking a change.

Vergil jolted up the girl in his arms and made a seat for her with his hands, into which she immediately landed, having no chance against gravity.

'Hey! Stop tossing me around like some sack!' Dante grumbled. He had long forgotten to play his role of a lady. His whole body was aflame with a slow torturous fire, his skin was getting light shocks of pleasure from every small contact, he was itching to be touched and ravished and all he could think of was Vergil.

'Come on, you,' Vergil smiled slightly and closed his eyes for a second, like a sour-cream-full fat cat would. 'Let me take you there.' Dante on his hands, Dante's legs to his left side, Dante's arms around his shoulders, Dante's hair tickling his temple, Dante's smell of storm and rain all around, Vergil went to the stairs to go to the first floor where his old room was.

A loud thud – 'Whops,' mumbled the girl.

'What was that?' Vergil asked to be polite. He was going up on the second stair-well not looking back, he couldn't care less.

'I lost a shoe.'

'A shoe is not the part of your attire to be most concerned about at the moment,' Vergil noted leaving the stairs and entering a long wide corridor with standing chandeliers along the crimson-silked walls. All the candles were out, some of them fell down long ago and now were lying quietly on the parquet and the thick carpet that muffled the older twin's steps. 'Aren't you going to drop all of the garments soon?' Vergil opened the door and walked inside.

'Am I?' Dante repeated absently._ "Who would have thought that this would be the way I'd enter this room. Vergil's room, how long has it been? I have never been here since he left our room where we lived together… what a lie. I entered here every single fucking day while I was waiting for him. I spent here hours, cleaning, preparing it for him…the moment you came back, Vergil, you shut this door and never let me in… Would you have opened it now if you knew it was me? I am kinda jealous of this not-me. I am jealous as Hell."_

The azure wall silk, the golden-bloody sunset in the window, the black desk, chair and wardrobe flew past as Dante fell down from his brother's hands and into the aerial softness of the blanket and the bedding; onto the velvety bed cover, the dark blue one with dragons it should have been. But Dante didn't look to check because Vergil's body lay down over his own.

Supporting himself with his elbows, Vergil hung over the girl, looking at the disheveled white hair spread over his pillow and at the azure eyes. It reminded him of Dante's white hair scattered on the blood-stained pillow. The night his younger brother came back from Hell. Dark bruises like ugly roses blossomed under the skin on Dante's shoulders and chest; at many places their predator thorns broke through into long deep slashes and the blood was oozing out like tears of pain. The white dew of cum was now dry and stuck to the lively body like a slough that Dante hadn't shaken off yet.

Vergil tore the metal hook out of his brother's body, breaking another rib. The body under Vergil's touch immediately came to life, playing a mesmerizing symphony. Dante gasped, his breath hitching, and threw his head back, his parted lips brushing past Vergil's. The strong body arched from the bed in an intense wave of pain and the nails dug into Vergil's back, scratching, drawing blood.

Vergil tore another hook out. The wave of shock sent Dante's chest off the bed up and he screamed, open mouth sliding along the older Sparda's moist lips, mixing blood and saliva, as Dante threw his head back into the pillows.

The girl was looking at Vergil from below with the same expectance, as if he was going to hurt her beyond possible. She was very still, hands along her body, fists tangled in sheets.

'Why are you so nervous. With such a body sex should have become a desired pleasure for you, right?' Vergil asked in a low voice. 'Don't be so tense. I am a demon, but so are you I am not going to hurt you.'

'Moron, I am not afraid of you!' Dante blushed deeply and held tightly onto the sheets, messing up the bed. 'Don't you know that for the ritual to be successful you have to be the only man… oh, hell, it's embarrassing…' Dante mumbled and looked away.

'Oh, I did not know that,' Vergil realized his own stupidity and touched the girl's cheek gently. 'Are you sure? You don't even know me, yet…'

'Just get going and let me be over with it,' Dante whispered fast. It was very obvious he was prepared to stay frozen like that and suffer the whole thing through.

'No,' Vergil smirked predatorily. 'Do you think I will let you stay stiff like that and be a rug doll that I fuck? No such luck, dear.' Vergil sat up and threw his shoes off, then climbed onto the bed, took the girl's hands and moved her to a more comfortable position, surrounding her with pillows so that she did not hit the back of the bed by chance. 'Relax. I will make you feel like, perhaps, only one person in this world could, the one loved by a demon, and that was my mother. Oh, and your mother, perhaps.'

Vergil was very smug, but in a sneaky and kind way for a change, Dante noted. As if he was playing with his older brother and the older smartass suddenly had a brilliant plan that involved showing off. Vergil put Dante's hands over his shoulders and leaned into this embrace.

'Kiss me,' the older Sparda demanded.

'W-why should I?' Dante looked at him with suspicion.

'So that when you ask me afterwards: who started all this shit? I tell you: you did.'

Dante licked his lips unconsciously and closed the small distance that separated him from- as their lips connected, he knew what from. Vergil was set aflame with his demon blood, and he kissed Dante hungrily, not bothering to be careful with his fangs. The older twin was leading Dante, guiding him, his hands tilting Dante's head as Vergil pleased. Thin fingers held the devil hunter's hair tight, thin fingers caressed his neck, then chin, then brushed along his lower lip and stayed, keeping his mouth open for Vergil.

The tongue was hot, exploring his mouth, licking and teasing. The body was hot as well, the hard trained body that was against him. Dante let himself palm the shoulders and reach out to his older brother's back, the silky tender skin covering steel-hard muscles. As Vergil was shifting his younger twin into a more comfortable position for a kiss, the muscles on his back were moving as well, following his hands and neck, and Dante could feel the movement under the skin with hands. It turned him on and made him spread his hands further, made him claw at Vergil's back lightly to push him closer.

Vergil was slowly cooling down, he was no so aggressive anymore and he finally gave Dante a chance to kiss him back and their contact became a change of soft licks, lazy suckings and random tongue-touches.

Dante cracked an eye open and bit his brother lightly on the tongue. There was an azure eye right in front of him looking back. An eye with a big black pupil, apparently dialated, and long white lashes. The eye smiled at him cunningly and at the same time teeth bit Dante's lower lip to blood.

'Hmn!' he protested, but the eye closed, lashes lying down, and Vergil sucked on the wound.

Arousal shot through Dante's heated body like an instant drug. He became aware of every move Vergil made: of the feeling of the blood flowing into the older Sparda's mouth, of his hand on Dante's shoulder, of his knee between the younger twin's legs, of his other hand searching for something under Dante.

As soon as Vergil tasted the blood he knew it was real – the Sparda blood, the metallic bitter taste of Dante's blood that he learned on his broken lips together with the taste of cum. It was so easy to think of the girl as Dante._ "If he were a girl, would he be like that?"_

Vergil's hand found the zipper and unwillingly letting go of the small wound on her lip he pulled her to sit up.

'You pervert,' Dante noted, fisting two hands full of Vergil's lock and with a swift turn ruining his hairdo mercilessly and completely. _"Just like a mirror. I like it when you look like me, it make it special. Us, together."_

'Yes, and even more than you can imagine,' Vergil agreed, pulling the zipper down. 'If I could, I would first beat you up, then tie you to bed, then make you bleed.' _"So that this would have been the perfect model of my memory of him."_

'What?' Dante was freaked out good. 'You like it that way?'_ "You didn't do such things to me before! Is it why you switched to men? You like to hurt and violate girls?"_

'No, stupid. I don't like beating up people but it seems I am into broken lips these days. And, true, I wouldn't mind tying you up,' the zipper at the girl's ass ended and came undone.

'Control freak – hey!' Dante caught the dress, pressing it to his chest.

'He called me that, too,' laughed Vergil. 'Is something wrong?' he asked, seeing the girl cover herself protectively.

'Nope,' Dante decided.

'Then why are you not letting go of the dress?'

'Oh. It's…' the girl was mumbling. _"It's embarrassing! I have freaking boobs! What if you don't like them? What if you decide not to do it? What if you see my underwear and decide you like cock better and quit?"_

'Then,' Vergil took Dante's hands. 'Let me have a look at this wonderful body.' The black material of the dress fell down and the older Sparda put it to the side.

It took Dante a lot of effort not to cover himself and not to close his eyes. Yes, he had walked to Succubus naked, but this was a totally different situation. And it was **Vergil**.

'It's just a plain body…' Dante muttered, realizing his cheeks were burning hot.

'You should not be so shy about your body, you have nothing to be modest about.' The older Sparda threw the girl back to the bed and leaned to nibble at her ear playfully.

The devil hunter was lying down. Vergil's lips touched his earlobe, the teeth bit at it slightly. It puzzled Dante. He waited for three seconds without doing anything, then asked sincerely:

'What are you doing?'

Vergil stopped immediately and moved back to look at the girl. She lay before him, spread and flustered on the dark blue cover, lips reddened, an innocent questioning look in her bright eyes.

'You don't feel anything?' he needed to be sure.

'Apart from you nibbling at my ear? Nope,' Dante answered honestly.

Vergil broke into laughter. 'Messing me up, you are one woman to have sex with.' He threw the white strands out of his face in a swift familiar gesture of combing them back. 'Okay then.' The older Sparda kissed the girl where neck met the shoulder and slowly went down, mixing together the kisses and the licks. She sighed almost inaudibly and her arms embraced Vergil's shoulders, fingers wandering in vague patterns over his skin.

Vergil was getting lower and Dante worried. The touch was pleasuring, but he was afraid. His older brother's hand cupped his left breast and at the unfamiliar sensation Dante's body once again was on alert.

The dark nipple under his thumb hardened and Vergil smirked into the skin that smelled of rain. He skipped a whole piece of Dante's chest to move right to the other nipple and lick it.

The feeling of Vergil sucking his nipple made Dante moan and push the older Sparda's head closer to feel that slick tongue again. Vergil sucked obediently, his other hand fondling Dante's left breast.

The devil hunter was excited, arousal inhabited his body and built a nest inside his groin. There was the heat and the desire and Dante wanted Vergil to touch his cock already… okay, just wanted Vergil to touch him **there**.

'Hmn,' it was hard to make himself talk to his older brother about it. 'Verge?'

'M?' the older Sparda asked not ceasing him ministrations.

'M-more…' Dante breathed out.

Vergil straightened up, Dante's hand sliding from his neck down and across his chest, and asked, towering over the girl:

'Already?'

'Um, no!' Dante was still afraid, but he had to do it. 'Yes… no… yes.'

'You don't like something?' Vergil asked, confused.

'Fuck you, I am scared as hell!' Dante went off, grabbed a pillow at his side and smacked it over his brother's face.

'There is nothing to be afraid of,' Vergil threw the blue silk pillow away and looked at the girl. He cupped her cheek.

'Oh yeah?' Dante pushed the hand away. 'Yeah, for you maybe not, but for me! Did you see your own cock? Did you see the size? I mean, can you even imagine a living flesh of another person inside you? It is a big piece to stick inside me, you know? My body is my own, I am used to everything it can consume and produce, but that is a foreign thing to put inside me, and moreover, you are supposed to cum inside. I won't be able to even clean myself! So there is fucking plenty to be afraid of! And I get nothing of it!'

'Hm,' Vergil fell deep in thought for several seconds. 'How about it then. You still have something you can get, that's pleasure. So how about you first get your fair share of pleasure and then we move onto the ritual?'

'Sounds good…' _"I don't understand completely though…"_

'Then lay back and enjoy,' Vergil took the girl's thong on both sides and tugged it down her hips successfully, letting it fall from her legs to somewhere on the floor.

'Hey?' Dante protested and tried to put his knees together but once again he realized that he became much weaker as Vergil easily overcame his resistance and spread his legs. _"Now I am embarrassed out of my mind…"_

The older Sparda lay down and licked along the tender folds of flesh.

'No fucking way! Ah-…' Dante whispered, pressed his elbows close to his body and covered his face with his hands.

Vergil put the girl's legs onto his shoulders and used his now free hands to open the hot pinkish folds and lick along the slit.

'Oh my…O-oh…' Dante moaned and almost suffocated as his older brother licked up and stopped at the small bud of flesh.

Vergil wanted to laugh triumphantly but just sucked on the bundle of nerves and licked it fast.

'Verge-ahh!.. you… ah!…' The moist feeling shook Dante to the core, messed up his breathing into the rugged gasps and gulps for air. His chest was going up and down in a mad pace as Vergil's tongue caressed the piece of flesh and made him tremble. He arched off the bed and grabbed his brother's head by the hair, winding it around his fingers harshly, the room was spinning.

Vergil looked up and Dante saw clearly as his lips kissed the folds between his legs, then the tongue darted out and licked down until it went in.

'Aahhhh…' Dante exhaled in apparent sexual frustration.

The girl was looking at him with wide eyes, her whole body shivering in excitement as what she was experiencing was for her for the first time. She was outraged, interested and hot. Vergil smiled and returned to licking her clit.

Dante was positively suffocating, thrashing on the bed, biting his lip. There was a slight pause between Vergil's sucking's and suddenly fingers caressed the slit and one slid inside.

'Ah! Verge what-ah!...' the finger went in and slipped out. 'Put it… ah… back…'

The older Sparda let one finger enter, the hot and moist flesh welcoming him. It had been a long time since he was with a woman. He thought he would feel disgust but the girl welcomed him… And she was making such wonderful noises.

'Ahn!..' Dante's free hand fisted the bed cover and tugged it to his chest as his older brother's finger started moving in and out of him in a steady slow rhythm. 'Ah…Fuck! Ver-ah!-gil! I'm no-aannm…-made of glass…m-m!-move it…'

Vergil felt a strange wave of relief after hearing that and it somehow made him happy, as if he had heard the line before, somewhere. He slid the second finger in and fastened the rhythm, matching it with the work of his tongue.

Dante was loosing it, he was unconsciously moving his hips in accordance with his brother's fingers and he could not stop anymore.

'Ver-ah! I'm…' he wanted to warn his brother, but suddenly Vergil withdrew completely, laying his hands on the knees of Dante's bent legs.

'Ooargh!' Dante groaned and reached to continue himself the touch that he lost. The older Sparda caught his hand immediately.

'U-uh,' Vergil shook his head in disapproval, let go of Dante's hand and unzipped his jeans. This time Dante didn't care. He didn't mind something bigger than fingers. And longer. Hell longer. Hell thicker.

Dante threw away the dark blue bed cover, put his hands over his head to show his body open, spread his thighs slightly and lifted his right leg up, putting the stiletto shoe he still had on against Vergil's chest, the heel making a small red mark near Vergil's left nipple.

'Fuck me Vergil. Now.' If he was a man, Dante still would have said that.

**...endo chap 22...**

Sorry guys i postponed Dante turning back to man cause this chap would be twice as long. So he is going to revert in the next =P Cant miss the femdante smut can i?

Sorry for the dealy - damn the uni! But heh here i am so im forgiven right?

**Next: all truth revealed. Know what? They freaking finally motherfucking TALK! About bloody everything! So yeah. Chap 23 Call a spade a spade.**

Thanks for review those were great! I even got new people!

Welcome, **FateEater, Bex the Hat! **Hope you enjoy the hawtness as much as i do!

PS the scare about no 10 reviews - no update is valid, bastards!

I love you all! BBS ^_^

Ethan.


	23. Call a Spade a Spade

...

**Babbling**

...

**Warnings:** NC! (limey!) fucking + mind-fucking.

Read at home under a blanket and alone. Don't eat meanwhile. Throw-up warning. Or you might choke on tears)

**Betad by Nimlinven, oh dear I owe you BIG ONE! =***

'Dialogue' "_Thoughts"_

"**Queen of Hearts"**

'**Cheshire Cat' **

_Hatter_

...

**Chap 2****3**

**Call a spade a spade**

Dante threw away the dark blue bed cover, put his hands over his head to show his body open, spread his thighs slightly and lifted his right leg up, putting the stiletto shoe he still had on against Vergil's chest, the heel making a small red mark near Vergil's left nipple.

'Fuck me Vergil. Now.' If he was a man, Dante still would have said that.

The girl was rushing into the unknown with a self-satisfied smirk and a fucked-up line. _"Pure Dante,"_ Vergil noted to himself, and looked at the thin elegant leg along the ankle and to the glittering leather of the shoe tip. _"Yes, he would be like that,"_ the older Sparda decided. Aristocratic fingers closed around the pale ankle and lifted it up. The cherry lips parted slightly to close over the leather of the shoe, a half-lick, half-kiss with a soft smack. _"Two can play this game."_

Dante shuddered and sighed darkly. He felt like being worshipped, the thin line of Vergil's lips tied to his shoe. He felt dear to that stupid self-centered fucker of a brother and it brought the comfortable darkness to Dante's eyes.

'Do it,' he laughed out on the silky linen of Vergil's bed.

The older Sparda nodded curtly and leaned over the girl supporting his weight with one hand, getting his hardened cock out of the confinement of the jeans with the other.

He'd seen it already. Dante didn't even spare his brother's cock a glance. The devil hunter gulped nervously and gripped Vergil's wrist. Dante was sure he trusted his brother, but he was still scared.

'Just, go slowly-…' the devil hunter stopped mid-sentence as his older brother's fingers opened up the warm folds of flesh between his legs and a hard hotness touched him there. 'Oh… it definitely feels b-bigger when it's there…' Dante panicked and looked up seeking support in the azure eyes of his twin, in the familiar lines of his cheeks and jaw, in the words that spilled from the reddened lips.

'Don't worry, it will fit nicely,' Vergil's whisper ensured him and putting his elbows on both sides of Dante's shoulders, the older Sparda lowered his body. 'Believe me,' he coerced.

'I always do, stupid me,' Dante sobbed inaudibly into his brother's neck and wound his arms around Vergil's waist.

The hot hard flesh pushed inside him, stretching the muscles that were not used to it. The sensation of being filled up took over the devil hunter as Vergil's cock was slowly sliding in, and the feeling drowned him, sending shivers through his whole body.

Hearing no protest, Vergil heeded the fingers clutching at his back and the trembling lips at his neck, but the girl seemed to be fine. He continued to slowly push inside until she took his whole length in, a slick tight grip. It reminded him of Dante's mouth on him that night…

'Ahhh…' Dante let out the sigh he didn't know he was holding. The cock inside him twitched in excitement.

'I'm all in,' the older Sparda breathed hotly into his ear. They were both afraid to talk loudly as if their careless talk could break the intimate contact between them. 'You fine?'

'I'm fine. Not bad.' Dante tried to word his feelings. It was not painful, but uncomfortable. 'It's unpleasant in a… stretchy way.'

"_Day, idiot,__"_ hiding his face in the pillow, Vergil exploded in silent laughter, which made his hardness move inside the girl slightly.

'Stop moving, asshole! What do you think you are doing?' Dante hissed, outraged. 'Freeze, smartass, I can feel your every move, so stop laughing!' He hit Vergil's side angrily.

"_You make me laugh so much, Day," _Vergil calmed down and moved back to take the familiar face into his hands and kissed the cherry lips that tasted like lip gloss and Dante. _"Only you."_

Vergil kept on ravaging the girl's mouth gently. The hands were beating his back vigorously but half-heartedly. The older Sparda didn't mind, as he didn't mind the grumbling and moaning into the kiss that probably bore some threats and swearing.

Vergil withdrew his hips a little and pushed back. The grumbling died out, instantly cut down by the movement, and the fingers on his back pushed him closer with such force that the ten small bruises would definitely come out nicely in several minutes.

Vergil started moving. Not letting him adjust, the fucker just started moving. Dante tried to follow his own senses, feeling with terror how his brother's cock was leaving his body for a second only to push back in, faster and faster every time.

He never knew the cock would feel so big, so hard – a velvet-wrapped steel – that it would be so intimate to be connected to another.

Dante's body eased up and the fast motion overtook him. He closed his eyes and kissed Vergil back, finding some perverted satisfaction of having both the older twin's cock and his tongue captured.

"_Dante…"_ Vergil wanted to call out.

'**Just some girl, I tell you, and I am the Fact Cat.'**

"_Dante!"_ Protested Vergil and kissed his younger brother.

'**As a matter of fact, it's a girl. Go for the breasts and come on, she's a girl where you are fucking her…'**

Vergil groped for the breasts and found the girl's left nipple. He squeezed gently, the soft breast in his strong fingers.

"_But Dante-…"_ he protested, yet the fact was clear, it was a woman's body in his embrace.

'**Told you.'**

"**It's Dante. Believe in what your Heart tells you, dear, and you will see the truth, my boy."**

"_I feel it, in everything!" _Vergil cried. _"It's him! The way he talks, the way he corks his eyebrow, the way he plays with me, the way he shows off. It's Dante! Say, Queen?"_

"**Yes dear?"**

"_It's true, right? It's__ Dante?"_

"**Of cour-…"**

_So what if the girl is __our stupid brother. Don't forget: we had a fight with him today. He sent us out, kicked us out. After we suffered so much! Remember our sadness and jealousy when he went to see that bitch?_

"_Yes, it was so painful to know he was with her while I was waiting for him…"_

_Remember__ what we wanted? We wanted to let him wait for us, we wanted to seduce him slowly. We wanted to learn to do it properly so that there is not even a shred of pain when the time comes. We cared so much about him!_

"_Yes, I didn't want to push him or hurt him. I just – just wanted to learn to have sex properly… I did it all for him…"_

_And what did we get? He goes to that redhead wench when we are two rooms away. And __sprouts nonsense when we were having sex with that human… We didn't blame him for coming to that bitch! He could have let us explain! We would have said that the power overtook us. We saw Dante then! We could bet it on our new hat that we believed it was him! We saw Dante and not some human! We were tender and caring, and we were happy… Did he think about how we felt? No way! He selfishly threw us out!_

"_No, don't remind me. I don't want to…"_ desperation clenched Vergil's chest and broke his unsteady breathing into gasps. _"I don't want to feel it ever again. I remember the dread when I realized I had never had him in my arms… it was all a vivid cruel play of my imagination…"_

The girl was not his imagination, right? She was real, her skin against his was real, her moist lips were… But Vergil wanted to cling to reality, he tried to quiet the voices in his head. So he grabbed the girl's right leg under the knee and quickened the pace, pushing harder inside her warmth, rougher, his thrusts probably painful for her as she frowned and looked at him, an unasked question on her lips which he sealed with a demanding kiss before she could utter a word. She was flesh and she was real.

Dante endured sudden pain and the rough treatment. He wanted to ask Vergil what was wrong, as the older Sparda was apparently troubled, but Vergil didn't want to share. All Dante could do was wind his thin female hands around Vergil's bare, sweat-pearl-covered shoulders and cater to his only need that he could satisfy – lust.

_That selfish bastard threw us away. The__n fuck him! We always knew that the only one who we can trust is ourselves. We must eliminate everything that troubles us and destroys the peace of our soul._

"_Right. Why do I have to endure all this trouble with him… I liked him, true. I still like him. I want to see Dante in this girl…" _She was embracing Vergil despite his quick movements the way Dante always did – as if he was something fragile, as if she wanted to hold him tighter but was afraid to break. _"Why is she so much like him?"_

_Isn't its obvious? It's a trap, just like with that doll, Trish. You wanted to help her and she__ backstabbed you. Now will be the same because it has always been like this. Can trust no one._

"_But what if by some strange fate this is Dante himself?"_

_Then what's more logical than to get rid of him? We wanted to meet him in several days but if he is such a dirt to come to us and drag us to bed – for sex or power, then he doesn't deserve our time. If he didn't have enough courage to face us openly, if he had to turn to woman to come to us, then he is just a nuisance and a liar. That's not what we can forgive, right? We have to be strict and cruel. That's what helped us stay alive all these years._

"_Yes, but, I like him… I don't want to kill him anymore…" _Vergil's heart was aching. He felt the cold, the omnipotent ice of separation slowly crawling into him through the fever of sex, freezing his fingers and feet, its spider web spreading over his skin, the hoar-frost of fear and pain covering his shoulders and lungs. _"Why is it coming onto me? Does it mean Dante's not really here? Does it mean this is just a girl?"_

_If she is, it doesn't matter. We wanted to fuck her the moment we saw her, so we would have done so even if she didn't want to._

"_That's not true!" _Vergil gasped for air and let go of the girl's bruised lips.

_Admit it, we __were seeking solace and oblivion while we were here, all alone, broken and left behind. So we wanted to somehow find a pastime that would let us stop thinking about all of it. So as we saw her we wanted to forget everything in sex._

"_I wouldn't force her!" _He let go of the girl and pushed himself off her to look at her face. She was in heat and frowned as he withdrew, but the hands stayed on Vergil's shoulders, as a welcoming gesture. He was slowly thrusting inside her and she shuddered with every movement. More slow, it seemed it was more intense for her. _"I wouldn't force her!"_

_Of course you would. It would not be the first woman you raped. Remember, when we were serving our Master we did so many times. We did so even without orders, just to satisfy our desire for a woman and desire for destruction and death._

"_I am not like that! I don't believe it! I didn't do it because I wanted to! I did it because I was not myself! I would have never raped or killed a woman!" _With a trembling hand Vergil palmed her cheek.

Dante's eyes opened in surprise at the gesture of affection, but as he met Vergil's gaze the devil hunter knew that was not a feeling towards him, but Vergil's own thought that got reflected in a strange action. Vergil didn't really see him._ "What are you thinking, brother? Why do you never let me in?"_

"_I would have never __raped or killed a woman!"_

_Of course you would. And you did so many time__s. Why stop now? This is what we desire and no one is going to understand us and forgive us._

"_I am not a monster!" _Vergil stopped and looked down at where their bodies were connected. The sensations brought him bliss, but the voices in his head spoilt everything and poisoned him. _"I am not! Not a monster!"_

_You are. You__ are a cruel and selfish monster. Because this is the only way we can survive, this is the way we live with our demon desires._

"_I am not human, but…"_

_Then we are a monster. To them, it__ is so._

"_But she is just like me, a half of each, not a demon and not a human, a ridiculous outcast that has no place in either of the worlds."_

_She does not know anything of fighting and the Underworld. __She lived among humans, she is too weak to accept her legacy. We will take it from her as we shall be the ones to unite the legacy of Sparda. Then we dispose of the defective vessel._

The vessel was hot under him, it was giving him pleasure.

"_She kisses like Dante,"_ Vergil nibbled at her lower lip, moved away, let their tongues meet each other in small teasing licks before pressing their lips back together. Two mirrors against each other: each the real one, each the reflection. Almost…

"_This body is female, but we fit together. It's like she knows how to __caress me the way I like it and when I like it, how to grab my hair yet let me lead. It's like she knows what I like and lets me do it freely, not questioning me... Only he can do that… only Dante."_

_Then it's him._

"_Why, Dante?"_ Vergil broke the kiss and studied the girl's face through the haze of the fast rhythm. The vessel had her eyes closed, the face was frowning. There was no more lip gloss and the eye shadow was not so evident.

He pulled her up. The girl didn't expect that so she yelped and grabbed onto his arms and neck, her head swooshing from the bedcover up in a white heap of hair to fall on his shoulder. Vergil put her into a more comfortable position, straddling his hips, and let her move herself, only holding her slightly around the waist.

Dante blushed profusely, not able to help it as his breasts were shaking right in front of Vergil in the most indecent way. To avoid his stare Dante grabbed his older brother's locks and pushed Vergil's face into the crook of his neck.

"_Sneaky bitch,"_ Vergil snickered. _"Day…"_

'**Logic says it's not Dante.'**

"_I wanted him to come to me… I want it to be him…"_

"**Your Heart says it's Dante."**

"_Dante,"_ the huge crystal flowers of sorrow blossomed inside Vergil into a sphere of sharp cold blue petals. It pained him, and he didn't want pain.

_It's him. He, who is the sourc__e of our pain and suffering. We don't want to feel this chill anymore, right?_

"_No, not anymore! I want to feel warm and I want to be home! No more pain! Why do I have to endure it every second? End it!"_

_Then kill him. __We'd always wanted to kill him. He is the only reason our heart is troubled. If he exists no more we will be calm and peaceful. He does not recognize himself, the legacy of our father, he just conveniently ignores the burden that we have to live with. He does nothing but burns his life down in shameless air-headed waste. He is a good-for-nothing clown unworthy of the name of Sparda. He should have died that day instead of our mother! The coward should have jumped and protected her!_

_If he is dead we will be troubled no more. There will be no more pain. We will still like him in our memories, but it will be painful no more._

Dante was lost in Vergil's touch, in the feeling of his cock inside, in the feeling of his strong yet tender and gracefully careful hands. In the feeling of his own new breasts being brushed by Vergil's flat chest, the way their nipples sometimes would caress each other's skin.

"_I just…" _the feeling was sweet and too dear to believe it, it was like the years of hatred never existed and Dante was back to the days when they would sleep together in one bed, holding each other to keep warm on a winter's cold night. Yet now they were not just together, but so much closer and so much more pleasant, a whirlwind of ecstasy that no drug could ever bring.

It was perfect, but for one metal needle of disappointment: _"I just wish you could give this shelter to me, your brother… not to some random woman whom you have never met before…"_

Dante shut his eyes close to keep the bitter tears from rolling down. He grit his teeth and pushed Vergil closer, scratching red lines on the older Sparda's back, then just palming the abused skin lovingly, trying to imprint every curve into his memory.

He hooked one leg behind Vergil to help himself combine Vergil's thrusts with the way his hips were moving unconsciously to meet his older brother's cock.

"_I just wish I could say you__'d let me feel this good once…" _Dante wanted their bodies to melt into each other and it seemed to him that with the next trust his wish would efinitely be granted, so he arched into Vergil's flat chest and caressed his muscled back, brushed his broken lips past Vergil's even it was just a sleaky accident touch. _"If only once you would not push me away… Why does everyone around you can have a piece of this bliss with you, but not me? Why? Do you hate me that much? You said… but your words and actions don't match, as always… What do I have to believe?_

_How am I supposed to live through this when I know, it's not __**me **__with you? You are not for me. Never have been. Shit…"_

Magma-hot. Red fever. Blank white flashes of delirium. The vessel had the azure pools of restrained tears that Dante had in his eyes, it had his white messy hair.

"_Vergil, please, just once…"_

The girl seemed to throw away some dark thoughts and reached for Vergil. She hugged him over the neck and let out a constrained sob of a plea:

'Love **me**?'

Dante's voice cut Vergil like a hatchet would, turning him into a masterpiece of a thousand soft quavering pieces of flesh turned inside out. The chill that he dreaded so much pierced his ribcage with the blizzard claws and froze his limbs. Vergil could taste the rime on his tongue.

Seeing no answer in his face, the girl snickered and **smiled**.

"_Yeah, Verge. As usual, you don't hear me. I don't exist in your world, right?"_

The nice small smile. Lips curved slightly, eyes half-shut. Contented smile. The empty smile that Dante faced him with, a nice façade covering a black hole of madness and detestation, of self-loathing and meaningless suffering.

"_It's fine brother. It's fine. There is only one thing left for me. I gave you everything I could, and now I will be giving you my Gift. There is the last thing you need to take from me, so do it.__" _Dante smiled, half-closing his eyes and letting the sensations carry him.

"_No! Not here! Not this smile! I hate it! I never want to see i__t! Ever!"_ Vergil felt the switch turning, his arms moved before he registered it, and he was destroying the smile.

"_Distort! Distort! Purse those lips and become the ugly grimace that you are! You are no smile, disappear, drop this awful lie and become the abomination that you are!" _There were sharp fangs in Vergil's mouth and the nails were turning dark and growing rapidly.

"_I am ready now. Not like in the dungeons, when deep in my heart I still believed in you. Not like then, when the bullet hit my head and I knew I will be coming back." _Dante relaxed. It was easier than he expected – not to struggle. He was used to struggling – every day of his damned life. But now he was giving it away, and he was not fighting back, he was welcoming._ "Do it now, now and forever. End it."_

Vergil squeezed tight to winkle the disgusting smile out of the cherry parted lips, his fingers pressing into the neck, pinching the muscles and pushing to break the flesh, to crush the cartilages to pieces.

"_Kill me so that we can separate forever and I can become just a small part of you.__ Kill me." _The cherry lips trembled, their line unsteady, and then suddenly coughed out a smirk and reformed, brushing away the hollowness and the crazyness like those were some trivial trash. The cherry lips paled yet curved in a new shape of a real kind smile.

Dante slowly closed his eyes and thought of the hotness of his brother's cock, of the tight grip of his hands, of Vergil's perfect body so close. He wanted to remember it all, every little piece that made up Vergil, the Vergil he knew – and never knew completely. The feel of the muscles under the heated skin, the feel of the silky hair. He could still taste Vergil on his own lips. _"It would be so good, if only it was really possible between us. You are my unreachable, brother."_

"_I give you myself, Vergil."_

There was a gush of air and the red and blue runes covered both their bodies.

"_I don't believe it, she did__ it…"_

Having made three full circles around, the glowing ancient writing crawled onto Vergil and stopped, covering his whole body like an exotic darkening net. Slowly they started to fade into the older Sparda's skin and with each small symbol, each glowing blackened rune Vergil felt an injection of power, like a stone shell was being broken off of him and he could suddenly bask in the freedom of overwhelming power.

"_I can hardly believe it, she just gave it to me…"_

"_So now Vergil has it. I'm a part of him. I gave it to him." _The last sparks of power left Dante and he beamed like an idiot. _"It's a strange feeling. I'm… happy?"_

The smile made Vergil's hands shake. Accepting. Loving. **Forgiving**. His grip eased and the girl that was like a rug doll before coughed and gasped for air automatically. Yet she didn't try to pry his hands off her neck or run away.

'It's good like this…' the girl kept mumbling hoarsely.

"_What the Hell's she talking about?__ I fucking tried to strangle her!" _The ugly smile was nowhere to be seen, so Vergil cooled down.

'It seems like out of two possible ways I will see death. It's fine…' she continued, her breasts rising high as she gulped air while she still could. 'If it's you, it's fine…'

"_Wasn't it that person-…__ someone she wanted to help who should decide what to do with her after I'm done taking the power?"_

'**Just a girl,'** the mind said.

His hands lying at his sides powerlessly, Dante opened his eyes to face his brother.

'End it, Verge.'

"**Dante!"** the heart screamed.

Caught by surprise by Dante's tender low voice, Vergil came. Hot semen – a sudden sensation in Dante's lower stomach. Vergil so close, holding him in his arms, pupils dilated, irises as clear as the fresh ice; so close, a curtain of white hair cutting off the whole world and uniting only the two of them. Vergil frowned and opened his lips in a sensual desperate call, barely above whisper:

'Dante!..'

Dante bit his lip and despite him being sure the sex was over, he embraced his older brother with his legs, hooking up the ankles and pushed him further inside as orgasm suddenly overpowered his feminine body. Dante blanked out for a second and nothing existed but Vergil.

"_Yeah, right. That's how it must be…"_

'Dante,' a light caress on the cheek brought him back to reality. _"Not true, Vergil doesn't know it's me. It's not __**my**__ paradise, he will never accept me, he never will… this is the end of me and can't you just kill me already? I want this bliss to be my last minute, not the bloody jealousy! I don't want to be fucking jealous of myself!"_

'Dante…' Vergil called, and he just had to answer..

'What?' Dante replied in a tired voiceless whisper. 'What?' The tears rushed up suddenly and welled in his eyes. He was going to cry, it was impossible to hold it in anymore. '**What** do you want? I gave you everything I got, even the power of Sparda that you wanted so much. So **what**?' He was shaking in hysterics. 'What else do you want from me, Verge? Oh, crap…' Dante looked to the side and went silent. He wanted nothing and had nothing. He was nothing, so he just stayed that way.

'Dan-' Vergil fisted his hair in terror.

_Kill him this instant! Do it now, it's the perfect opportunity to be free of the pain forever!_

"**Help him this instant, dear! We need to make up!"**

'**It cannot be him, the facts say otherwise!'**

'No, stop it!' Vergil howled and the look he gave the girl was completely mad.

_Kill him_, the Hatter slipped to him quickly and put his crimson top hat onto the white table-cloth. He took the white bone china cup and took a sip of blood-red tea. It left strange stains on the Hatter's pale lips. Like blood would._ I mean, you were sprouting something about not wanting to be hurt anymore yet when I tell you the fastest way you back off, you boneless worthless piece of shit. _Those lips started talking very fast, like a constant noise of words._ Kill him. Prove at least once that you are something. Kill him. Show some backbone, bitch. Kill him. Or is it too hard for the little you?_

"**No-no-no,"** another voice richened the noise. She was sitting near the Hatter, her black crown glittering in the candle light. Her crimson long dress was all in little black hearts, and her hair was the same honey gold. **"Don't listen to him dear, I know better what is better for you. You wanted only to make your life better, right?"**

'**Come on, Queen, shut up, is it not you who colours the white roses of his hair red?**' The cat smiled and lapped at his cup of tea. **'Desires of heart are your specialty, right? Turning all white into read, huh?'**

_The fools should not be sitting here__,_ the Hatter snickered angrily and put a snow white piece of sugar into his cup, where it melted it's death.

"**You are the fool here. Pass me the main dish."** the Queen ordered**. "We should have cut your head off a long time ago. Off with your head!"**

'**But your Majesty,'** the cat laughed and licked his red-and-black striped back clean. **'He lost it a long time ago, and it's a fact.'**

"**I am not the fool here, but you, Hatter. Aren't you the idiot?"** The Queen accepted the black plate with the plate cover. She leaned to smell the still closed dish and smiled in anticipation.

_He is the fool_, the Hatter took a pair of black tongs, and pointed at Vergil.

All the three looked at him across the table.

_Kill him!_

"**Save him!"**

'**Ignore her!'**

_It's Dante, kill him an__d all the misfortunes will end! You will be finally free, Get some courage at least, once in your life, you disgusting worm, and kill him!_

"**It's Dante! And he came to you. You should tell him everything. What you hate about him and what you like about him. It's the only way, you need to save yourself – and him. Save him!"**

'**It's just a girl. She can not be Dante. Ignore her! Send her away!'**

'I… I don't know anymore…' Vergil whispered, looking at the girl Dante under him and not seeing him.

"**Serve the food!"** the Queen ordered and the Hatter jerked the plate cover off revealing a torn-out heart that was still beating and pushing the blood out. Blood oozed in rich black and crimson streaks and dripped off the pate to the snow white tablecloth.

_Ah,_ the Hatter sighed with annoyance. He was looking at his lace cuff that he accidentally dipped into the dark puddle of blood. _Anyway,_ he took the black tongs and cut a piece of heart.

_Your Majesty,_ the piece of trembling flesh sunk into her cup with a low gulp.

"**Yes, that is The Heart."**

'**As a ma****tter of fact it is,'** the Cat said as his piece of heart fell into his cup.

_And this will be mine. _The biggest part of the organ was still on the plate. The Hatter took it with his bare fingers, the squishy flesh, and turned to Vergil.

_Here's to you, Vergil!_He toasted and bit at Vergil's heart, teeth digging into the quivering heart.

'No! Stop!.. stop it, please… shut them up, somebody…' Vergil chanted crazily.

'Verge…' Dante frowned, unable to understand what was happening to his brother who still stayed connected to him intimately. 'Hey,' Dante touched Vergil's shoulder.

'Shut up! Shut them up!' The older Sparda jerked nervously, as if he had half awaken from a nightmare.

'Verge,' Dante called peacefully, and his tone shocked Vergil.

'What? Can't you see what is happening to me? I need to shut them up! I'm… I've gone insane, fucking insane! I need to kill…' Vergil chanted to the girl under him as if she were Dante.

'Okay,' Dante nodded simply and stayed down.

'Are you sane?' Vergil shouted at Dante who lay under him as if he was a girl. 'I was going to kill you! Seriously! And I'm completely out of my mind! And you say okay?'

'Yeah,' Dante shrugged his shoulders. 'I'm here for you to kill me anyway, so no need to run. As to madness… you are Vergil. And my Vergil is strong enough to overcome anything, so I'll just have to wait until you are done killing whatever it is.'

The look was honest. His younger brother was calm and composed. So sure. So sure in him, that Vergil was embarrassed.

"**Is it tasty?"** The Queen asked.

_Delicious,_ the Hatter replied.

'**As a matter of fact,'** the Cat agreed.

'Not for long,' Vergil smirked in self-satisfaction. Dante was simply lying under him and watching him expectantly, just waiting for him to finish. Not a shred of doubt in his power.

"_Fucker,"_ the Older Sparda complimented him.

Vergil was sitting on a huge crimson chair, a silver teaspoon and a white bone porcelain teacup in his hands. His tea was green, like a green tea should. It's rich hot scent calmed his nerves down. The white tablecloth was all covered in black splashed of blood. But it was not his.

It was theirs. Of the cat that lay in pieces all over the long table. The Cat could now take the places of all the twenty people, as for this many the table was served. Well, at least different furry parts of the Cat could. The Queen? Her honey-haired head stood on a black plate, an ugly grimace of her beautiful fake face. The body lay somewhere under the table in the shreds of the dress. The Hatter? His ribs served as forks just fine. His black heart of hatred gurgling in the open teapot. His head, unfortunately, got blown to pieces, what a waste.

Vergil's heart was stitched up strongly and cut into his chest again. It dirtied his white shirt a little, but he could live with this as well as with the stain on the white lace sleeve.

His waistcoat was more or less fine, the red-and-black striped one.

His black crown a little small, yet it was fine. He was his own king now. The voices were gone forever.

Vergil blew the candles off and in the dusky haze of the fog the bright golden rays manifested the sun going up, tearing the nightmares and spreading the azure skies.

The azure skies of Dante's empty eyes.

'You fine?' Dante asked.

'Yes,' Vergil nodded. He became infected by his younger brother's calmness. 'Oh, that…' the Older Sparda moved back and carefully slipped his softened member out of the feminine body. He quickly tucked himself back into the jeans without cleaning up.

Dante twitched. Only now when Vergil started acting like a living person the devil hunter realized that the world hadn't ended like he thought it would.

'Oh, I'm a whore…' Dante's face fell and he started groping for some cloth to cover his naked abused body that was starting to ache.

'No, Dante…'

Vergil was surprised. He felt no fear and no hate. It was just him and Dante. And they would fix it all later.

"_I did it with Vergil I am a frigging whore and a __psychopath…What do I do?" _Dante found the bedcover and rolled to the side, tugging the cloth over his cold dirty body, trying to cover it from his older twin as soon as possible.

'Dan-…' Vergil reached out to his younger brother.

'Don't!' Dante shook in a heap of the blue bedcover. 'I'm all dirty…' he whispered.

'No,' Vergil coerced him kindly. _"You are my brother… I didn't know you could do this, yet…"_

He doubted it, but somehow Vergil was sure that it was sorely for him that Dante gave up the legacy of their father and destroyed his life and himself. It made all other things and reasons and question worthless. Why is he a girl? How is it possible? Why didn't he just say something? Why did he do it exactly? Everything could wait.

Vergil received the only Gift in the world that he never considered possible. Dante gave him power. Dante became human. There was no more reason to fight. No reason to argue. No past, no grudges, no fight for father's legacy. Just him and his younger brother Dante, nothing else in between. Dante…

"_He was hurt. And it's all that's important."_

'Why didn't you kill me?' Dante asked, emptied.

Vergil climbed onto the bed silently, laid himself behind Dante, around his huddled-up form, and hugged him tightly.

Vergil's body touched Dante from behind, a forgotten warmth, and a hand embraced him firmly, pushing them together.

In the half-open window were the violet and orange skies. The sun was going down.

'I don't know anything anymore.' Dante whispered. 'I came to die and end everything. I am alive but I feel like I've died. I'm empty. Blank. I know nothing. Tell me something to hold onto?'

Vergil pressed him tightly to his chest and whispered into his ear earnestly:

'I love you, Dante.'

Nothing mattered, really. Dante cried, smiling.

**...endo chap 2****3...**

**END**

**Frightened? Dissatisfied? Dissappointed? HAHAHA NO WAY!**

**End of first half of the fic! Mehhee. Look forward to the next 20 chaps, lol!**

**Read next: past troubles discussed, they finally agree on a kindo relationship, what will it be? Vergil the caring older brother. O_O**

I started working on this chap only when you got me 10 reviews for the previous one. I'm a bitch and am proud of it, yeah.

Recently I'm redoing my room – totally, and working to get money for it so real life eats me up, but hell, I said I'll do the frigging story so better later than never. Here was your update, lazy bastards.

Feed me faster, get faster updates ^_^

**t** sure i know azazel thats why i called him so) now he is a badass but he will be on our side yeah!

**Lily **welcome to the fic! Рур yeah now we are done, Vergil's imagination is healed)) sorry for the dealy, but i wanted it to have some quality, hope you understand) and im not abandoning the fic you can be sure it will be finished) if you worry im always available at my cantacts - see profile)

**everyone** we will be returning to all the other characters real soon. its just... len me have them together for sometime okay?))) the next night the twins stay together and after that we will see Trish, lady,Azazel and even Tony the blacksmith and his gunslinger girl. And of course the jaguar)

I love you all! BBS

Ethan.


	24. The Return to Innocence

...

**Babbling**

...

**Warnings:** Nudity, language – all as always.

**Betad by Nimlinven who is a freaking beta monster… I dunno I'll neva understand how she fins all the crap and the mistakes here but oh yay – hooray to Nim for doing this awful job with such speed and grace!**

'Dialogue' "_Thoughts" Speech from the past_

**HAHA O_O ITS ME.**** I REVIVED YEAH.**

**YOU KNOW WHY I AM GIVING YOU AN UPDATE? CAUSE I GOT 10 REVIEWS FOR THE PREVIOUS CHAP. KNOW WHY I DIDN'T UPDATE? CAUSE I DIDNT HAVE THOSE REVIEWS YET. DO YOU GET WHAT IM THINKING? LITTLE BASTARDS OF THE READERS.**

**On with the fic the personal babbling for readers is at the end**

...

**Interlogue (24)**

**The return to Innocence**

'You asshole you are the worst influence ever, making me into a wimp,' Dante sniffed some ten or twenty or thirty minutes later, when the sun had sunk into the horizon and the periwinkle twilight descended.

Vergil's slightly-muscled body was right behind the devil hunter, perfectly against his back, the second blanket over him, a blanket of warmth; Vergil's arm embracing him and keeping them together. His older brother's hand lay over the silky linen near Dante's chest and the devil hunter could see the neat nails; the slender fingers and how they connected into an elegant yet strong hand, woven tendons and a light pattern of veins that developed over years of sword training.

'Oh, would you for once refrain from ruining all my efforts at being affectionate?' the older Sparda sighed in mock regret.

'Nope,' Dante snickered and relaxed in the heap of the blanket, floating on the white cloth heated by his brother's body. 'I'm here on this planet to spoil whatever you can think of, remember?' the devil hunter yawned and huddled to the older Sparda shamelessly.

'So, you done with moistening my expensive linen then?' Vergil smirked into the devil hunter's ear.

'Shut up!' Dante jerked, partly because of the mockery, but partly because the older Sparda's hot breath at his neck made his sensitive body shiver and his mind remember the pleasant minutes that passed not so long ago.

'Wut?' Dante protested when Vergil's hand disappeared and the embrace was gone: he was disappointed by the loss, despite thinking he had to stay separate and feel disgusting. It seemed Vergil had another opinion.

'If we are done with hysterics,' Vergil grumbled as his bare feet felt cold, 'I'd love to get some warmth as well. You lay there leisurely all alone. Share. Give me some blanket.' The older Sparda unceremoniously slipped under the cover and his arms closed around Dante's waist. Bare skin against bare skin. A sensual contact; neck, back, waist.

Dante shivered and licked his lips nervously, fixing his stare at the regal lilies on the wall silk that now looked violet. He still felt the attraction of the male body behind him. The perfect body of angles and ribs and the silky skin to kiss…

"_Oh, shit. Don't tell me I am still ready to go on with that…" _Dante tried to gather all his might and deal with the situation. Not entangle himself in it even more.

'I just can't believe we are here, back to our home.' Vergil laughed out and shook his head, throwing the white disheveled locks off his face. It was a long way home, yet here he was, his brother beside him. 'This house, this room. My best memories lead to here. I loved this place, my only place of happiness and freedom. I remember a lot of things. Mother. Father. The first time I held a sword. Times we were a family. The times when we shared a bed. Remember?' He wanted to be childish. To be like years ago when the worst thing in his life was being late.

'How nostalgic,' Dante's voice dropped sepulchral. It was painful hearing Vergil talk so lightly of the past. 'Can't agree though. I hate it here.'

'Why?' Vergil's head shifted from the pillow to rest at the crook of Dante's neck, there was genuine surprise in his voice.

'Well, yeah,' the devil hunter frowned and bit out spitefully. 'Whatever. Didn't last long, huh, that happiness and all. At least not for me. Your protection over me you were so proud of. All of this was years ago and was all short-lived. It was all before you moved out of our room so that it would be easier for you.'

'What? You didn't object.' Vergil sounded bewildered.

'Yeah? What was I supposed to say?' The devil hunter shrugged. 'That my big brother is a traitor? That I didn't want to be left alone? That I didn't want to be left behind? That would be so, childish. I had to grow up, even if it meant getting through pain.'

'Don't be ridiculous, how old were we? Under ten? It was not necessary, if you didn't want it, you could have…'

'Don't!' Dante half-turned around and pointed at his older brother angrily. 'Don't tell me what I should have done. Don't want to hear that from you, who thought it was alright to disappear for ages and then come back as if everything's fine.'

They were silent for a minute, wordlessly staring into each other's eyes, each stubborn and sure that he was right.

'Are we having a fight?' Vergil asked, amazed.

'Yeah.' Dante replied darkly and turned away from his brother, taking all the warm cover with him and turning into his previous position of a blanketed hedgehog. 'It's high time we told each other everything that we had piled up for so long. How about some honesty. For once.'

'Weren't you happy here?' Vergil sat up, looking at the blanket pile that covered his younger twin. Something important was being decided between them and Vergil felt it, desperately and inevitably.

'Wanna know the truth?' the devil hunter laughed bitterly. 'I'll tell you. This house is my own Hell. Much worse than the Hell I needed to go through. This is the last place on earth I want to be at. It does contain some vague memories of how we were brothers before everything happened, but mostly… Mother died here. Since then it became my burden: every corner, every little thing in this house reminded me of her and how I missed her. How many hours did I spend rethinking every little detail of that day, blaming myself, thinking of what I should have done, thinking how it was my destiny to die, not hers…' Dante fell silent for some time, not bothering to mouth his sorrowful thoughts. 'I hate this house.'

'You should have done - something. She was not supposed to…' despite all that happened that day, Vergil was fighting a great urge to throw off the blanket and strangle, strangle the abomination that had killed his mother.

'I couldn't. I fucking couldn't…' Dante sighed. Amethyst lines of the clouds were flowing in the dark frame of the window.

'Why?' Vergil couldn't bear it anymore, so his fingers clutched at the linen and uncoiled his brother's frame to look at his face. The blanket flew to the side in an ugly swing of a white wing, revealing Dante's pale neck, thin shoulders and small breasts with small hard nipples. The older Sparda dug his digits into his twin's feminine arms and shook him violently. 'Tell me for fuck's sake, why? Why didn't you protect her?'

Dante's eyes were wide, ice crystals ready to melt.

'She…' the cherry lips said slowly, trembling, 'handcuffed me to the iron radiator.'

'What?' Vergil froze, unbelieving. Then let go of Dante's bruised shoulders and sat back and stayed there, straddling the body under him.

'She cuffed me to the fucking radiator.' Dante was trying to smile but his own lips failed him time after time, so he looked around, his jerky look trying to stop at the table, at the wall, at the wardrobe, but finding nothing to concentrate on. 'I couldn't even reach out to her. Or to you, when it hit you… and then you became angry and I didn't want you to see her broken, I was so afraid you would be sad. And you ran away. It was only me and her, there…'

Dante was lying under him, speaking the words the meaning of which reached him only several seconds after they were pronounced. Dante's voice was calm, yet his body was shivering.

He should have stayed. He should have been stronger.

'I'm…' Vergil whispered, but was unable to let out what he wanted.

'What… did you say?' the younger Sparda asked in the same low voice trembling with intensity.

Vergil moved down to rest his forehead against his brother's and took Dante's face in his hands. Cold cheeks. Dante's lips, his cheekbones, the line of his nose. His eyes. Looking right into Dante's eyes, so strange. They were just eyes, all Vergil could see were the black pupils and the bluish, very pale irises, radial ice from under the long white lashes. There was no soul and no emotion, because everything people said about eyes showing the feelings was bullshit. Vergil didn't see his brother's soul or read his mood looking at those eyes. But it was so seldom that they were so close to be able to see the thin ray-petals of blue, azure and white that formed their irises, that the feeling of being intimately close brought them together as a billow inevitably crashes tiny people onto the shore. Dante was the sand and he was right in front of Vergil, under his fingers, under his chest, under his skin.

'I'm sorry. For being angry at you. For shouting. For leaving you alone then. For being such a failure of a brother that I am,' Vergil spoke to his younger twin. 'I am sorry and regret it all. Forgive me.'

He awaited reproach and anger but instead thin arms lifted from under the blanket and closed around his neck. Dante reached up and spoke to his ear.

'It's fine,' and pulled him along back onto the bed.

'I forgive you for everything, because now you are here, with me. You know, it was not her death that made this house my Hell.' Dante's grip around his older brother tightened. Words left his lips with much more effort this time. 'It was you. You, Vergil. You ran away and I was left alone. I lost everything and was alone here. I buried her and returned to this house, hoping some day you would come. But days went on and nothing happened. I stayed here, cleaning this empty shell until I didn't feel anything anymore.

I can walk here blindfolded, you know. I remember every fork in the kitchen, I know every stair in this house with my own fingers, as I washed them so many times, so many days. I know the dragons on the cover on this bed, I will recognize their pattern even if I go blind, I will with my fingers, 'cause I cleaned them of the dust every evening.

I didn't mind, really. It was all for that day when you finally appeared at the doorstep. But you…' _"Said 'I hate you' and I…"_

Vergil's lips were soft and a little moist on his cheek and on his temple.

'It is all bullshit. Never listen to the shit I say,' the older Sparda murmured into Dante's spilled hair. 'As long as I am alive, you are the most precious person there is to me. As long as I breathe, remember, I think about you.'

'Hn,' the devil hunter smiled with relief. 'That's why no matter how you fuck everything up, it's fine. Right?'

'Yes.'

'Say it. You avoided it for too long. It's payback time.' Dante closed his eyes and prepared to enjoy the words. However he was still not sure he wasn't sleeping.

'I love you, brother.'

'…say it.' The devil hunter demanded again. Once the words were spoken it seemed they never were there, or he thought them up himself so he wanted to hear them again and again, until they rang in his ears all day and crawled under his skin so he can feel them.

'…love you.'

'… say it.'

'Fuck off!' Vergil pinched his cheeks with both hands and smirked_. "He even called __**me**__ the manipulator, this brother of mine, huh. Guess in reality it was always Dante who had me twisted around his little finger."_

Dante laughed.

They lay on Vergil's bed, perfect twins, like they were probably lying before they were born. Their cheeks touched and their snow-white hair mixed. Hands and legs. Heart against heart. They stayed one for tens of seconds of mutual forgiveness, that grew into minutes of silent acceptance and then stretched into the evening that both of them had been waiting for so long.

They were perfect twins but for the breasts that Vergil could feel under himself. And the lack of anything under him in another region, for that matter.

"_But it is Dante, so there is no real difference. Though I wanted him so much more when he was a man. I hope he doesn't stay a girl forever, but of for now it helps him to come in terms with having sex with men, I definitely don't mind."_

'Day,' Vergil murmured and turned his head to nuzzle his brother's neck. Dante was attractive and addictive, just asking for it. Even more so when he was abused and shaken. Even more so when he was a man, but the older Sparda decided to be patient about that problem for now. At the moment Vergil wanted make-up sex, so he parted his lips and his tongue caressed his twin's skin.

'Stop that,' the devil hunter's strict voice sliced through the room. 'I want you to be my **brother**. The one you should have always been. Not something else. So stop this nonsense.'

"_Not now. I don't want to think about anything sex-related today anymore, and I definitely don't want to complicate things. Just be what you are, __Verge, be my brother. No sex, no fooling around."_

"_Somewhere deep in my heart I knew it. You are the same as before, bound by the human rules, brother. So, you want me beside you, yet you won't be mine. How typically you, Dante. It's my turn to suffer, isn't it? Since I won't be able to look at you with the same eyes after I came to the Human world several days ago. But oh well, it wouldn't be interesting if you just gave in. You never did, and this fight with you that I always had is my best entertainment ever."_ The evening was not so perfect anymore, but despite his own reasons and desires Vergil worked up the courage to say what Dante wanted him to say:

'If that is what you want, then be it.' _"We'll see how it goes."_

'Thanks,' Dante put his hand at the older Sparda's back, but the moment his fingers felt the faint muscle pattern under his brother's skin the old black wooden door flew open and banged at the wall with the force of the push.

'I. Don't. Fucking. Believe it!' Shouted Azazel and stormed in fiddling with his goatee nervously, short blond hair a messed up mane, habitually topless, dressed in his miniature jean-shorts slapping his black flip-flops at the parquet with great annoyance. 'What the fuck did you do?-… Oh.' He stopped as he faced the twins sprawled on the bed, Dante under the white blanket, Vergil over him dressed only in jeans, limbs and all entangled into each other.

'Did you fuck him? Strange, I thought it doesn't count.' The Wishmaster pouted and his bright blue eyes scrutinized the room with the greatest suspicion.

'It's that bastard that turned me into a woman!' Dante shrieked and his free hand pulled the blanket closer to his chest protectively. Who knew that the Wishmaster would be able to turn him into. Something worse than a woman – something genderless? Oh, he wanted back to his body – or he wanted revenge._ "You are dead meat now, bitch, Verge will slice you, spice you and eat you alive, 'cause he is on my fucking side now."_

Suddenly Azazel's body jerked, bent back and smashed into the wall near the door. His hands roamed the azure wall silk, but were unable to push up past the invisible force to his strangled neck. The Wishmaster coughed, suffocating, eyes red as he tried to use his demon power, but failed miserably as his body was lifted from the floor and its own weight dragged him closer and closer to death.

'Is that so?' Vergil slowly sat up, combed the long white strands of hair off his face with the usual swift gesture and looked at the demon across his bare shoulder, his glare a skillfully suppressed rage.

'Don't kill him. Yet.' Dante warned and smirked devilishly at his older brother. 'I wouldn't want to be left without knowing the means to turn me back.'

'Talk,' Vergil let out coldly and the Wishmaster's body tensed and suddenly fell to the floor like a carelessly dropped sandbag.

'Kh-hey,' Azazel clutched his throat and kept coughing for some time before finding enough strength to sit up on the parquet floor and glare daggers at the older Sparda twin, who was unexpectedly strong. 'Easy boy. I didn't do it. Kinda. I didn't do it intentionally. I don't invent the rules! Look I am the Wishmaster, I only register the deals, I am just a conductor. So I kinda can't have my own desires. But sometimes I do and they backfire, that's what happened to your brother, Dante. I kinda felt attracted to him, and the fucking thing decided it was a wish, so Dante turned into a woman. But I didn't make that happen! A TV set is not responsible for showing porn you know? So talk to the higher-ups! Actually-…' The Wishmaster's lips were pressed together and he helplessly covered his silenced mouth.

'So this doesn't have anything to do with paying for my wish?' Dante raised an eyebrow, not sure whether to be relieved, angry or plain confused.

'Be brief.' Vergil frowned.

'Nope, that's absolutely irrelevant,' Azazel explained as he was allowed to speak again. 'Just a side effect that happens from time to time. I just wanted to be friendly with the Destined Devil and as always the fucking thing screwed everything up.'

'Well, I can't be the Destined Devil or whatever it is,' Dante said smugly, and sat up on the pillows, showing his nude torso and crossing his arms as he felt absolutely proud of himself for sneaking out of another demon-heritage-related responsibility. However the breasts came in the way and he had to reorganize them so that his arms were crossed in a haughty fashion. 'I'm human.'

'No way, you are half-demon by birth,' Azazel snorted, but suddenly felt uneasy as a shadow of doubt crept into his mind. 'Waitasec. What I don't understand is how you actually managed to pay for the wish despite it being the absolute condition that I couldn't tell you what you had to do.'

'Do you honestly believe you make some kind of sense?' Perplexity cracked Dante's face and he depreciatingly lifted his upper lip slightly.

'Uh,' The Wishmaster rolled his eyes. 'The wit-wonder. You didn't know it, but to pay for such a grand wish as yours the price is to perform an absolutely selfless act. Do you know haw hard it is to do that? Unless you die saving someone's life it's practically impossible. So here I fucking am, came across half of the Universe, hearing that you actually somehow fulfilled the requirements. What the fuck did you do?'

'The Ultimate Gift…' Dante mumbled, and his cheeks turned bright red from embarrassment. He felt as if he was saying he was a public whore. The urge to turn his face away or hide was almost irresistible, but he stubbornly remained seated the same way, his back even more straight, breasts thrown out, glowering at the Wishmaster.

'Oh my fucking bloody demon king on a stick!' Azazel burst into histerical laughter, now fully falling to the old dark parquet. 'This is so idiotic! Why would you do that? Demon gals do it to get pregnant and to become part of a good blood line, but you – Ahaha, that's ridiculous! – you should have known you won't be able to produce children. No wonder this stupidity worked! That was one unpredictable shit! Ahh-kha!.. Don-…'

Azazel coiled on the floor in pain and coughed out splashes of crimson blood that flowed out of his mouth onto his hands and down his tanned heck to his bare chest.

'Stop, that, asshole!' He shouted angry at the older Sparda twin. 'But this – this explains you, Vergil. You are now a full-blown demon. With the full power of Sparda. Oh, what a mess! And you, Dante, it means you are human. The only fucking person who really now had already twice claimed the right to be the Destined Devil is a fucking mortal human. Ahaha…' And despite the bleeding and the pain that twisted his insides, gulping his own blood Azazel laughed from the heart. 'That's just brilliant.'

'Shut up!' Dante snapped at the Wishmaster, this time half-heartedly.

''Kay, 'kay… Blooody idiots, hah.' Azazel tried his best to collect his body from the floor after being crushed by Vergil's power. 'Stop this already, I'm no threat.' He threw at the older Sparda. Vergil was still angry but he let go of the Wishmaster.

Azazel got on all fours, turned around and retreated to the door, leaving behind a bloody trail and presenting the twins with a view of his ass in a tight-fit jean shorts.

'Hey where do you think you are going-… crawling?' Dante snickered, absolutely blissful with the way the Wishmaster's body wavered after the impact of Vergil's power. He sneaked back under the blanket and settled under Vergil's arm.

'If you got all your internal organs in a hitch knot,' Azazel snorted back, 'you'd crawl as well. Asshole! Farther away from here. And never to have any business with you Sparda fuckers. It's so fucking funny but I'm afraid I'll die in the process and not necessarily from laughter, so adios, kiddies.' A red hand mark left on the door, the Wishmaster pushed it open and crawled out on his hands and knees, producing some very steam-engine-like sounds which were murmured curses on his native language.

The jean-clad tanned ass and the black flip-flops disappeared behind the door.

'He didn't say anything about turning me back,' Dante noted absently and looked up at his older brother, who was towering over him, all woven muscles under the thin skin, white hair still down and an overwhelming aura of power around him.

'Already!' a bitchy shriek came from the staircase and some grumbling about the stairs and fucked-up organs followed.

Vergil looked at his twin sprawled under him and put a hand at his chest.

'Flat,' he said, surprised.

With greatest dread Dante put his hands onto his chest under the blanket to confirm it. Flat male chest, nipples. Since he was already naked, Dante just nervously palmed down.

The navel. Smooth skin, hard muscles. Yeah, he spent a lot of time slaying the demons and running around and hardly ever had any money to feed himself anything too nutritious, so he was fit. As he got lower, the curls of hair. And flesh.

'Yeah!' Dante whispered wide-eyed. His fingers found a cock. 'Fuck yeah!' He said louder this time, but still not sure he got his treasure back safe and sound.

There was a cold sticky substance that covered his inner thighs and his cock, and Dante guessed that it was the semen, rejected after the ritual when his body turned back. He shuddered.

Back to being himself, Dante found it hard to believe what he did. His brother, of course, was still hot and everything, but to let that into his own body, to let Vergil cum. He shuddered again.

'I think I need some time in private,' Dante stated, his cheeks turning hot. Vergil was not supposed to intersect his private life. Vergil was not supposed to know what and how Dante did in bed. He was not supposed to be in that bed and he was not supposed to be the one cumming in that bed. Or in other places for that matter.

Dante pushed away his older brother's hand and sat up, with his back to Vergil. There was a black leather stiletto shoe in front of the bed, so he slipped his foot inside without thinking. The second one was nowhere to be found so he stood up and went towards the door that was supposedly leading to the bathroom, one foot in the shoe while tiptoeing with the other.

Vergil half-lay on the bed when his younger twin found the stiletto.

'Dante!' He smirked, but the younger Sparda ignored him. Vergil studied Dante's male form moving away, the back, the arms, the long legs that now looked even leaner when he was practically tiptoeing to the bathroom, and – _"Yes. I am so gay,"_ Vergil smirked, – the neat fit ass that moved with much more elegance because of the stiletto. 'Dante, you've got-…'

'Fuck off or I'll kill ya!' the devil hunter roared and slammed the ebony door behind him.

"… _-'ve got a women's shoe on, stupid."_ Vergil sighed happily and threw himself back into the pillows that smelled like storm. Fresh and electric, it was still here, the light fragrance. Through the smell of sex.

Dante was not really angry with him, and Vergil knew it. His younger twin was just unnerved after the body switch. Now Dante was male and had that wonderful body back. Vergil envisioned it once again. Strangely, it was so nicely composed and built that he felt an unnatural desire to mess that body up, until Dante was all in blood and screaming in the mixture of pain and pleasure. He did not just visualize the chains.

They were together and Vergil intended to keep it that way. After all, they had another bitch from the Demon world to take care of, and its name was Caleb.

Be my brother, Dante said. He meant no hitting on him. It was Lady, wasn't it? Who said it was forbidden to have a relationship with a brother in the Human world. But oh well.

Maybe indeed it was just the blood calling, or the mental damage after being tortured was too much. Like all of this wouldn't happened if Dante didn't go to Hell, so generally all the times they messed around were because of some screwed-up circumstances.

It might be even nice to stay just brothers. Have time to know each other.

"_Brothers it is then. But why do I feel like if I go and screw some other man I would be in deep trouble?"_

Dante was sitting in hot water, arms on the edges of the marble bath. The silver taps had blackened with time, the dark four-leafed never-fading metal flowers.

His body was still exhausted and ached all over after the change, even though it had been thoroughly cleaned and relaxed in the hot liquid heaven. Dante sighed and made himself stand up, despite the urge to fall sleep on the spot. Vergil was waiting outside.

It was late evening, and it had been a long day. Old big blue tiles on the walls, nets of cracks, pieces fallen down with time.

'Sleep calls.'

The devil hunter looked around, but apart from an old piece of soap that he had used to wash his body, the wooden half-pulled drawers were empty as well as the broken glass shelves. Several colourful vials where shampoo used to be lay broken on the silver shelf in front of the mirror.

'Whatever,' Dante shrugged and seeing the reflection of his male – at last! – body, went out happily.

'Hey,' Vergil met him right at the door and a white clean sheet was thrown around Dante's hips and carefully fixed by tugging the free end into the folds at his hip.

'Why, thank you.' It was strange. Unusual and awkward. Vergil stayed centimeters away, yet didn't touch him. Close, but not sexually. The feeling of home.

Their heads down, looking at the older Sparda's hands on the sheet. The warmth of Vergil's fingers through the fabric. A touch yet not the touch.

'You're welcome,' Vergil replied calmly and the warm hands left Dante's hips in a symmetrical simple motion. 'I redid the bed. It seems there are no rooms in good condition other than this one, so you are welcome to stay, if you will.'

'Will I will,' Dante answered, surprised, tousling his wet hair.

'You fail,' Vergil snickered with no animosity. 'As always.'

'Fuck off,' the younger Sparda told him, since it was the phrase he always replied with to all Vergil's nagging.

Same words, same patterns. Telling each other they were fine. Giving each other something to start with in this new world where they were together.

'Would your majesty condescend to bring your royal ass to bed?' Vergil had changed the linen and almost got rid of the smell of the ritual. He took a place closer to the window, threw the blanket over his stomach, put his hands behind his head and closed his eyes. 'Are you going to stay there all night or are you finally going to accept that we have to sleep during the night?'

_Are you going to stay there all night or are you finally going to accept that we have to sleep during the night? _Ten-year-old Vergil asked and closed his eyes. Dante was oh-too-glad they had to do repairs in his room, threw the t-shirt off, left the trousers on the parquet floor and jumped onto his older brother's bed: _Coming!_

'Coming,' Dante stretched himself, carelessly took the sheet off his hips, dried the water drops off his body and let the sheet fall to the parquet floor. The bed mattress sagged slightly as the devil hunter took his place on the bed.

'Whadda we do tomorrow?' Dante asked, looking at the white ceiling. There was a leak in the left upper corner. They lay near each other, not touching, just together. It was refreshing.

'Since it seems that all the internal disputes have been resolved, I find it natural that tomorrow we deal with our common enemy. Which is Caleb.' Vergil answered lazily without opening his eyes and yawned.

'Okay. Kicking ass is good for health.'

'Now sleep, brother.'

''Night, Verge, brother.'

Dante had been looking at the ceiling for several minutes in absolute silence. Only their breaths could be heard. Then Vergil's sleeping body shifted and slipped off the white pillow, the older Sparda's head falling onto Dante's chest.

'C'mere. I know you are all high and mighty, but you need rest, too.' The devil hunter pulled the blanket up, covering both of them, and pushed Vergil closer. 'Sleep well. You'll get some serious scolding from me in the morning.' Dante let his fingers onto his brother's disheveled hair and tousled it into a total mess. 'There, bitch.'

**...endo chap 24****...**

**G****imarelive . com** Wow! That was so fucking pleasant there are no words! I welcome you to the fic! Don't die there yet, please! Here is some! Not much, but here is I hope you enjoy! I was shocked out of my mind by your review, yeah. THANKS A LOT!

I was busy, my mega-beta Nimlinven was busy but now we are finally in touch and she did a great job today we are at chap 18 already! So everything is fine. Exams are what happened)

**Alyssa**Приветик) Была в шоке с русского ревью чесслово! Мину 5 на монитор пялилась) Кстати в 13 чтоль главе я пыталась тебе написать во время прочитывания тобою моего текста, надеюсь ты нашла и прочла! (а ваще хз в которой главе это было). Спасиб большое за оставленные комментарии! Настроение +100 желание писать +100! Кстати если вдруг будет желание – я ищу кто бы меня перевел на русский)))) *спряталась* Вот маленькая обновка! Потихоньку вспоминаю собственный фик!))) Дальше пойдет получше надеюсь)

**Marble **Better later then never! I'm always real glad to hear from you, Marble, whenever that is! Is so fucking awesome to read reviews from not-registered people) yeah im crazy)))

**t **See? They didn't kill Azazel to get Dante back but yeah he got his fair share) or I hope so. Nope' im not really going to touch dante's and vergil's past that is in the novels cause I don't want to read them – they end badly! NOT WANT. I just like the names and I liked bandaged vergil. That I am gonna keep using) btw my Az had nothing to do with the sin of pride he is just a fallen that is a demon. We'll se maybe I'll work more on his background.

**All others got PMs!**

**REREAD CAPS IN THE BEGINNING FUCKERS! I HATE YOU ALL! *hides***

**All in all I am fine and I love you all me dear readers ^_^ As you probably heard, feedback greatly appreciated! **

See ya in chap 25 which opens the 2 part of the fic!

Ethan.


	25. The Morning After

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**Babbling**

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**Betad**** - Not**

'Dialogue' "_Thoughts"_

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**Chap 25**

**The ****Morning After**

In the pleasant laziness of the slumber, Vergil was pretty satisfied with life. Yet his intuition was never wrong and he somehow sensed misfortune. Never being the one to sleep late, he easily overcame the sleepiness, took his head off Dante's shoulder, leaned back on the pillow, and opened his eyes.

In the semi-darkness of the early morning, mere centimeters away from his face, two white shining orbs were coldly looking at him. The glowing white eyes on the half-transparent red being with the wings like that of a bat and a shrimp tail. For a moment Vergil could see how its whole body was pulsing right before him, thin red veins going all through the semitransparent flesh, then it shuddered and as if being slowly ripped apart and started to divide.

Vergil held his breath and before he knew he moved, the warm sticky liquid slowly dripped off his bloodied hand onto the while linen. Not loosing the strange eye-contact, the older son of Sparda pulled his hand out of the pulsing jelly flesh, the dark heart-core firmly clutched in his fingers. The blood-goyle opened its beak helplessly, waved its fading wings once and fell down onto the bed in a heap of fleshy jam.

Vergil blinked and stared at the azure silk of the wall in his room. The lilies were in their usual royal perfect shape. He was ready for surprises, but they never came to his bedroom before. He was educated enough to sleep in secure places, to where the lesser dirt of the demons didn't have any access, so it came quite an unpleasant surprise. If he were serious, he would have to admit he was caught off-guard, yet he was awake and the bloody shrimp was a dead mess, and the facts were in favour of him still being capable and not foolish enough.

If sleeping with the trouble-magnet by the name of Dante in an old unprotected half-destroyed house while being hunted by the next heir to the Demon world was anything but fucking foolishness.

The mirror in the old black frame was to the left and the shelves with the books were to the right. Yet the harmonious lines of the fleur-de-lis shimmered ever so slightly. Vergil knew that his morning was going to be brisk the moment he opened his eyes. The feeling of the lingering danger was invigorating and nostalgic.

A big black splash of shadow bloomed on the wall like a wondrous flower – the older Sparda turned to his left, embracing his younger twin, and in a tangle of the blanket and pillows rolled over off the bed with Dante in his arms.

'Ouch you asshole!' lying on top of Vergil, the devil hunter grumbled with the vigor he hardly ever showed in the morning, but the pain in places of future bruises on his shoulder hip and knee were a good incentive to wake up.

Vergil himself had hit his both shoulder-blades hard on the dark parquet, but he just gritted his teeth as he watched the big black paws spread right out of the wall and rip the bed to shreds with the thick claws.

'You just had to spoil my morning you fucker,' Dante went on grunting, sitting up naked on the floor near his older brother and sleepily rubbing his head which he hit over the ebony nightstand. 'Couldn't you do something nice for once to wake m-… whoops!' He spotted the shapeless creature on the bed, the red splash left after the blood-goyle, the feathers flying out of the shredded mattress and the broken iron springs sticking out, that were of no problem for the black claws of the shadow that ripped through the metal as well.

The next thing the Sparda twins knew, the shadow got sucked back into the wall and all was silent.

'Good morning!' Dante concluded cheerfully, grabbed his twin's arm and jerked Vergil up, intending to run for it.

'What?' hissed the older Sparda, standing up and shaking Dante's hand off.

'We need to get out of here!' Dante threw up his hands. 'They'll be here any minute, come on, dumbass!' He looked around hastily and spotted the yesterday thong on the floor.

'We can't just leave-… what in the name of our father are you doing?' Vergil wondered as his younger brother slipped into the women's thong and carefully fit it to his body, a thin line of fabric around his hips, disappearing between his buttocks and a small cloth holding his cock at the front, still covering it fine despite the size of the garment_. "Which is definitely possible only because he is not erect,"_ Vergil noted to himself. It was a bad idea to imagine what it would be like if his younger twin was in the condition stated above.

'I have no choice, I've had enough of walking butt-naked yesterday, thank you so friggin' much,' Dante spit back, shivering at the memory. Nevan came to his mind and the devil hunter rushed to the bathroom, but as he opened the door a shriek came out and another blood-goyle bit hard on his forearm. 'Fuck!' He grabbed a chair with his free right hand and smashed the perfect old piece of furniture over the goyle's semitransparent head, fluid lines of the legs and arms of ebony cracking to pieces and squashing two white orbs of the demon's eyes and dropping the crumpled form of the blood-goyle onto the floor. ''Be right back,' Dante stepped over the red broken wing with white luminescent dots.

'Hurry,' Vergil just said and looked around searching for a weapon. He only had the White Gloom though, which he left on the table in the hall the day before as he was captivated by Dante and his lust for him… her. 'We need to get downstairs, I'd like to get my sword back since it seems like the only weapon we have here.'

'Won't be much help,' Dante came out, a black leather stiletto shoe in his hand, awkwardly stepping over the stunned blood-goyle. By the uneven steps and the clumsy way he was holding onto the doorpost Vergil knew it was none other than his brother, so he smirked to himself.

'Never the graceful one, aren't you, Dant-…' the older Sparda didn't finish as the ink-black blot splashed out of the wall and a shadow monster jumped at Dante, who shied at it lightning-fast with a shriek and stumbled over to his twin.

'Fuck!' the devil hunter hung over his brother, Vergil holding him under the arms. Both of them froze for a second, but the Shadow turned its head towards them and bristled with the black smoke of the demonic energy. On its pitch-black muzzle the shining red eyes opened and narrowed dangerously. Dante whispered: 'It sees us!'

'For all the bloody bitches of Hell!' Vergil pattered under his breath and dashed for the door right in time, as the demon jumped.

The gigantic black cat crossed the room momentarily, reaching out to the sons of Sparda, smashing a chair in its way, the sharp claws blowing ebony to bits. From the corner of his eye Vergil saw the back claws on the parquet and how they sank into old hardened wood like it was warm butter, and he changed direction abruptly, shoving Dante to the side and into the corridor.

The jump of the demon was too powerful, so the cat ran into the wall, smashed into it, the Shadow's body turning shapeless for a second and splashing out a heap of needles, piercing Vergil's shoulder. Then it turned back into a gigantic cat and chased after the Sparda twins.

Pushed out of the room, Dante staggered, the stiletto shoe still firm in his hand. His older brother hissed angrily behind him and the devil hunter smelled blood. Part of him wanted to turn around and execute revenge, yet he knew he was weak against the Shadows so he just groped for his twin's hand and ran.

Dante was dawdling while the cat already prepared for a dash through the old dark corridor, filled with obstacles that were the candle holders with tens of candles, so Vergil took the hand his brother held out and dragged Dante on.

'Too slow,' Vergil said, his free hand on his wounded shoulder, trying to close up the blood-oozing holes.

'Too fast, asshole!' Dante snapped back, hardly able to match the speed of his twin.

'Argh!' Vergil groaned, hooked his left arm around the younger Sparda's waist and pulled him.

Old portraits and the candles with spider web beads flew past as the instinct – and his older brother – drew Dante to the staircase, the Shadow chasing them like a crazy clingfish. Another black silhouette appeared at the stairs and Vergil stopped abruptly.

"_One behind, three ahead, two black spots on the wall to the right,"_ the thought rushed in the older Sparda's head. 'Fuck!'

'I'll take the-…' Dante wanted to say he would take the one behind them, but Vergil pushed him down, covering the devil hunter's body with his own. Vergil's arms closed in an embrace, and the older Sparda's body pressed against Dante's back, warm and hard.

"_If I die,__ seriously… that is not such a serious loss to the world and who the fuck cares, but they will get to Dante…to this human Dante who can't even protect himself."_

Three black needles smoking with demonic energy pierced Dante's left arm and shoulder. He winced, but pain was easy to handle, he was used to it.

Vergil coughed and snickered. The grip of his strong thin fingers tightened and trembled. Every place, where Vergil's body was connected to Dante's back became wet and hot.

'Verge?' the devil hunter turned. Three Shadows were over Vergil, tearing him with their claws into red and cream-coloured skin ribbons. The other two were smashed at the wall as the black hedgehogs, their long black needles sticking in all directions, cutting through Vergil, three of the needles in his own body.

'Verge?' Dante muttered hoarsely. 'You won't, I don't believe it. You won't. Right, Verge?' _"Not like this! After all the shit we've been through you are not going to die on me here because of some stupid lesser demons, don't you dare!"_

"_Pain is a good reason to wake up. Can't leave you now even if it blow my body to pieces, can I?"_

Vergil threw his head back and roared in pain, like a beast, his low howl shaking the house, rending the air and space. In a moment the older Sparda's skin paled and the dark blue veins cut through it, his hair stood on end. A lace of blue and black runes covered him, then dissipated immediately.

The old dusted candles on the holders sprang to life, the fire bursting from soiled wicks in uneven dancing flames of aquamarine. The flames grew instantly, burning into shining flames, white cores with the blue edges.

Vergil's howl broke. The blaze of the candles brightened and turned to blinding, it rose and shined until there was no shadow in the corridor and the demons were writhing on the floor, trying to crawl into a corner, their sorrowful moans quiet. Finally they shuddered and their black mystic bodies dissolved in the light, leaving only the dark spheres of the cores.

The lights calmed down into being normal candle lights, though still blue, and the six cores of the demons cracked and fell to the floor in splinters.

Vergil lowered his head and panted. His skin darkened and starting from the wounded back it hardened into black scales that gleamed with sapphire and indigo. They covered his body like a reptile's – leaving the face, the chest and the insides of his arms, where the hardened flesh turned lavender and white; the dark veins glimmered and erupted into shining white and silver energy vessels. His eyes burned cyan with power and lips were a pale angry line.

Mesmerized, Dante reached out his hand and touched Vergil's cheek, bone scales hard and grooved under his fingers.

'Day,' Vergil called, his voice low and coarse from the transformation. Pale lavender lips moved in a familiar motion of his name, showing sharp fangs. Demon non-blinking eyes with no irises shone their bright cyan. 'We need to go.'

'Yes, brother,' Dante agreed and jerked himself up.

For the first time in his life, Dante sincerely wanted to be a demon. To be on par with his brother, to kill the demons, to be strong. Dante wanted the power that he had lost back.

"_Vergil was born to be demon. I was born to be human. Maybe now we have finally gained the balance?"_ He tried to lie to himself, but he still wanted it.

Vergil took his hand, long black nails scratched Dante's human skin to blood, but the devil hunter didn't complain.

As much as he wanted to devil trigger himself, nothing came out. It was not easy, but Dante had to accept that he couldn't do anything anymore, so he blindly followed his older twin, whom he admired now more than he had since Vergil came back to the Human world.

Vergil pulled Dante to the staircase and down to the lobby when the devil hunter noticed the second stiletto shoe that he had lost the previous evening.

They ran down the stairs, Dante stumbling but continuing on as Vergil pulled him further, never letting go of his hand. There were more Shadows in the hall and a dozen of blood-goyles circling at the ceiling. Three goyles fell down to attack them and Vergil easily waved two of them away, his scales protecting him from this mockery of the attack. Their bloody jelly bodies splashed at the wall, staining the old portrait in a silver frame. The older Sparda tore the core out of the third demon with his bare hand and threw it to the floor in disgust.

_Oh, and by the way, Dante,_ Nevan's smiling face was clear in his memory, _you can tear up the dress and make a total mess out of yourself. But you do anything to my Cristian Louboutin shoes and I will eat your cock – or cunt, whatever, for breakfast, tear out your heart and feed it to you for lunch, and throw all your intestacies out to the bats for dinner. _She beamed at Dante, white teeth and red lipstick, narrowed foxy eyes. _Is that understood, my dear devil boy?_

'I'll be right back,' Dante muttered very fast when they almost reached the last stair and turned around to get the stiletto. His fingers loosened in Vergil's and slid away.

'Don't you!' the older Sparda bit out shortly and angrily and with a twist of his hand, Vergil was clutching Dante's wrist firmly. 'I told you to not let go of my hand, did I not?'

'Well, you never had any problem letting go of mine, so bugger off,' Dante shrugged with a dark snicker and jerked his hand free.

Vergil let him. He wanted to protest and shout, to yell how Dante was an idiot and how he was human now and needed protection, but he couldn't make himself say it aloud. He had nothing to prove his younger twin wrong.

Dante reached out to get the shoe, but his body didn't oblige: from the three holes in his left shoulder the blood was still pouring, and his whole arm was numb. _"Why didn't it cure?"_ Dante thought, dumbfounded, and snatched the elegant shoe from the floor with his right hand. He hurried back to where Vergil was throwing away a Shadow with his bare scaled hands.

Strangely, the leather was warm and nice, and the devil hunter could partly understand why the Witch wanted the shoes back. Despite the uneasiness of the high heels, they were a perfect sex weapon. He smirked as he remembered the dark shine of his brother's eyes and the way the jeans were not such a perfect fit for Vergil as the stiletto touched his bare chest.

"_Maybe he still likes girls,"_ Dante noted, but it didn't bring him any happiness he thought it would.

'Let's move on,' Vergil had his firm grab on the devil hunter again, and jerked him to the side. A Shadow sprang from the wall and in a mass of dark demon energy it splashed onto the stairs, shredding them to chips.

"_Too slow for me now, it seems," _Vergil just glanced at the Shadow and it exploded from inside out, torn apart by the cyan flames, dirtying the walls and the parquet in sticky black oil.

'Why are they so friggin' fast?' Dante panted, trying to follow his brother.

'Hn', the older Sparda didn't answer, keeping his thoughts to himself. _"It's not them, its, you, moron. You are not a match for them anymore."_

Over another tree jelly dead bodies of the blood-goyles they managed to get to the twin navy blue leather armchairs and the low black oak table between them, where lay the White Gloom in its white confinement, just as Vergil left it the previous evening. The older Sparda reached out.

'Don't!' Dante shouted, but it was too late, his twin took the sword out of the sheath, the black blade swished in the air to cut through the Shadow attacking Vergil. The tip of the blade came easily through the ethereal body of the demon and was slicing through the core, when it got stuck.

'Crap, Verge, run!' Dante tugged at the older Sparda's hand. _"That bloody idiot blacksmith! I asked him to make a blade that would keep me in human form in the Demon world, I didn't fucking ask for a soul-sucker! The friggin' sword didn't work before, but now it just had to, didn't it?"_

Vergil frowned, a nasty nauseous feeling in his stomach, just like when he shot Luce and Ombra for the first time, the feeling of his demon energy being sucked out.

The Shadow spasmed around the blade and in the last attempt to attack bristled with black needles, piercing Vergil. Dante saw clearly as they went into his brother's body, came out through the breaking blue scales of Vergil's back and spread out, almost touching the devil hunter, but dissipated suddenly.

Vergil groaned and the cyan flame flared up and finished the Shadow up. The hit too much of him, and tolder Sparda gasped for air and fell to his knees, exhausted, White Gloom stuck into the wooden floor for support.

"_Even if the sword sucks out every bit of the demon essence there is in me, I am not letting the demons get Dante,"_ Vergil told himself, trying hard not to lose consciousness because of the wounds, headache and dizziness. White Gloom was smoking with his power, the pitch black blade apparently condensing all the demonic energy within itself.

'Verge, you arright?'

"_Dante's here, right,"_ Vergil shut his eyes and tried to calm down. _"I'm not alone."_

'Leggo of the damn thing, it's killing you! Verge!' through the dizziness warm tender hands were prying his fingers off the white-leather-covered hilt of the katana. Dante's hands had a strange feel: his own scaled, hardened fingers seemed rock-rough to Vergil, while Dante's fingers had the gentle human skin, light silky touch.

'Verge, they are coming,' his younger twin was whispering to his ear hastily. Shaking him by the shoulders – the marvelous silky caress of human flesh.

"_Can't let go the sword__, it wouldn't let me…"_ All Vergil could feel and perceive was White Gloom tying him to the blade. But if he was honest, he himself didn't really want to take his hand off the katana. Even if it weakening him immensely, it felt more like a battle of will – which he was losing so far – rather that a life-endangering experience, so he just gripped the hilt tighter.

"_Like hell I am letting a mere sword stop me from fulfilling my promise. And I did promise to protect my brother._

_Not after the shitty day that we had. Not after we came to an agreement. Not the stupid blade, nothing is going to stop me. Ever, from today on, nothing will ever stop me._

_I promised for those hands on my shoulders."_

'No way,' Vergil frowned. He had felt worse; he had been to the bottom of the Demon world. He had suffered and had known true pain. So he could handle a little pressure.

'Hn,' he smirked as his vision cleared slightly. The demons were mere steps away, and Dante was trying to shoo them off with a chair, successfully destroying yet another piece of ancient art.

"_Need to finish it fast,"_ the older Sparda tried to work up a plan. "_Yes, I should calm down. Too much time of confusion, too much time with Dante, that riled me up. After all, we talked everything through, why should I act rash?"_

'There,' he said almost coldly and with a quick step and a smooth slice of the sword Vergil was on his way to help his younger brother.

Dante started when the older Sparda moved – dashed out in a blink, the dark lace of the runes falling like a broken shell behind him. The blade was swishing in the air faster than Dante could notice, only the bluish-black swishes could be seen – the demon energy pressed inside the airless thin gape that followed the White Gloom was marking every curve and slash that the katana in Vergil's hands had cut out, evidence of the art of his swordsmanship.

"_Don't even need my demonic power to dispose of this garbage__. And Dante needs to see a doctor." _

Vergil took the devil hunter's hand again and pulled Dante towards the door, slaying the Shadows despite his demonic energy being sucked out. By the time they managed to get to the half-open old door, the room was a mess, furniture and parquet in shreds, the small butterfly pieces of wall silk fluttering around.

The hard scales on Vergil's body had lightened, the glowing veins hid back into his body, showing the older Sparda's pale skin with faint-looking but strong muscles underneath it. The last curves of the black smoke snaked into the solid blade of the White Gloom.

'Does everything you give me work this twisted way?' Vergil mock-grumbled at Dante, but his frown in fact was brought out by the look of the younger twin's wrecked shoulder. The blood had seized but it was still an open wound that hadn't closed.

'Ohhh, come on, I didn't know it worked!' Dante pouted back, offended by the unjust accuse. 'You used it, remember? Before this time there was no problem, right? Write a letter of complaint to Tony or something, it's not my fault, jerk. And I warned you not to touch it!'

'What did you need a blade that sucked the demon essence for?' Vergil pushed the door with his shoulder and his bare feet touched the marble staircase of the main entrance of the mansion. The light-lemon sunrise was glowing at the horizon, no more demons seemed to be lurking around, everything was calm and quiet. _"Nostalgic. Like morning training."_

'Careful!' Dante jerked up as a blood-goyle behind Vergil opened it's beak to cut into the older Sparda's back. Vergil twitched and turned around to watch the fading dying demon splash onto the old marble, a black leather shoe piercing it's head with the stiletto.

Dante blinked, perplexed, and the realization of what he had killed the goyle with struck him.

_Oh, and by the way, Dante,_ Memory-Nevan beamed at the devil hunter, white teeth and red lipstick, narrowed foxy eyes. _You can tear up the dress and make a total mess out of yourself. But you do anything to my Cristian Louboutin shoes and I will eat your cock – or cunt, whatever, for breakfast, tear out your heart and feed it to you for lunch, and throw all your intestacies out to the bats for dinner. Is that understood, my dear devil boy?_

'Oh, well,' Dante threw his hands in the air, 'my luck's bloody killing me, it's just fun-fucking-tastic.'

Vergil eyed him, unsure of the subject of the younger twin's speech. The almost naked devil hunter strode to the door, carrying his slightly tanned lithe body lightly. Easy sure steps. He kneeled, the wounded shoulder brushing past Vergil's chest, to pick up the wrecked shoe from the dead goyle on the cold white marble.

The blood trace was warm on Vergil's skin. For a moment the previous day seemed absolutely unreal – his mistake of misjudging and leaving Dante, his fault for coming onto that barman, the fight he and his younger twin had afterwards, the icy feel of sharp words and Dante closing the door right before him. Waiting for hours in a dead house, anxiety and impatience. And then the strangest thing that ever happened to him – Dante's feminine face under him, frowning and biting his lip. Dante's face and a firm grip of his fingers in Vergil's locks. Vergil still didn't have the word to name the sex they had had.

Dante was down, cleaning the stiletto from the jelly flesh and murmuring angrily. The younger twin's shoulders were broader now again, more worked out; Dante's shoulders that had carried the Sparda's curse. Vergil almost leaned to touch him, to palm the muscles that were back in clear lines, to feel the warmth of life. How did they live through for so long? How did they live through for so long without each other?

'Whatever,' Dante shrugged and straightened up, a foxy smirk on his lips. He had two shoes in his right hand, but the heel of one of them was irreparably broken. 'Who cares now that we are done?'

'Truly,' Vergil shook his head to shoo away the dou

bts and combed the disheveled snow-white hair back with his hand.

The younger Sparda came down from the marble stairs, and walked towards the gate, bare feet on the emerald grass. Before going out of the old garden, he turned around, glanced at the ancient pine trees, dusted with dew, morning light and age; at the arches and columns, at the stone demons on the house and finally at his brother.

'Damn.' He sighed, his expression turning dark. Every little piece of his skin, every angle and curve of his body fired up under Vergil's intense gaze and the memory of sex with Vergil was burning in his mind.

A pair of the sharp crystals of the azure eyes never left Dante's figure as the older Sparda walked up to him. A pale-skinned warrior with a sword resting in his hand comfortably. Vergil's hair like hoar-frost, chest coloured with a splash of dark crimson that smeared onto the plainness of his stomach; the black jeans carelessly resting low, outlining the hips. Bare feet on the grass then on the old plates of stone, leaving the wet prints as the dew drenched the jeans. The jeans' legs covered Vergil's ankles so that only half of his feet could be seen, pale toes left a row of small round dots, behind which the elegant curve of the wet sole.

'What's wrong?' _"You are injured, do you need help?"_ Vergil put his hands on both sides of his younger twin's neck and pushed Dante's face up with his thumbs. The tender touch to the skin. The silky sensation of caress. Just like…

'Don't-…!' the devil hunter jerked and broke free from the touch, throwing Vergil's arms away, taking an abrupt step back. 'Don't fucking touch me!' He whispered angrily, pointing at his brother for emphasis. _"I don't want to remember it, don't want to feel it again…don't want to think about it, to know what I feel…"_

'Dante,' the older Sparda called gently, reaching out to his younger twin.

'Just be like before _it_, can't you?..' the devil hunter said finally, looking right at Vergil, his voice coarse and thick with worry.

The older twin's hand stopped, finger-pads a tremble away from Dante's cheek, so close yet unable to connect.

"_I'm sorry,"_ for the first time since Vergil was violated and tortured, since he decided men suited him better and hid behind this pretext to avoid the pain and humiliation he had gone through, for the first time he realized Dante wanted to stay the Dante he was. Dante didn't want to be like him, didn't want to be his lover, or any other man's lover.

It hurt Vergil and made him afraid to the point of the darkest dread of being left behind.

'I'll drive,' the older Sparda dropped monotonously and strode to the azure jaguar that was parked in the street.

Vergil's warmth that Dante could almost feel swayed away, replaced by the chilly early morning air with a bright scent of dew.

Ashamed of himself, the devil hunter watched his brother go away. His back, that was what Dante always saw. Never turning back to look at him, Vergil was always waking straight, no matter what, even if it was the wrong way he always followed it until the end. Going quietly behind the older Sparda, Dante almost leaned to touch him, to palm the clear lines of muscles on his back, to feel the warmth of Vergil's life. How did they live through for so long? How did they live through for so long without each other?

Despite everything Dante said and despite everything he had convinced himself he was feeling, his sincerest wish was for Vergil to turn around and embrace him regardless of all the bullshit and the shame.

…

They silently went to the Jaguar, not looking at each other, the older Sparda plopped onto the driver's seat, his twin beside him, the engine grumbled at them, displeased, and the azure car took them to Devil Never Cry.

**.****..endo chap 25...**

Thank you everyone for your support! It's only your kind words that make me find some extra time to write this shit. *falls asleep due to lack of it from studying and nervousness*

I luv you guys, ya keep me going! Sorry 4 this chap being this short( was unintentional. =_= dunno I think that was boring *ran for the hills to look for proper inspiration*

Whatever, if I dint answer somebody's review feel free to flood my pm.

Kisses n hugs and all the best to yall

Ethan.


	26. The Point of No Return

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**Babbling**

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**Betad**** by the almighty Nimlinven**

**She has now received an official title of the Muse))) luv u dear!  
**

Posted right after finished but hell! Look! I'm ON TIME! It's the 15th! Yay I'm a barchellor with no marks less them B!

'Dialogue' "_Thoughts"_

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**Chap 26**

**Point of no return**

Vergil drove automatically, unaware of his own hands turning the wheel. All he was aware of was his younger twin sitting beside him on the black leather seat of the Jaguar.

Dante was torn apart from him. His twin, a part of himself, was supposed to be forever his. Yet…

"_Dante__ has own thoughts and his own wishes, not like mine. Did I get too used to him always being there? Always waiting for me. Did I think he would follow my selfish choice? What happened to me, to fall so low as to seek acceptance…_

_He is his own man. Has h__is own body, covered in the marks that I do not want to disappear. _

_Do you hate __the marks on your skin now, Dante? Do you shudder in disgust when you remember?_

_I don't. And what scares me despite all my rational decisions to follow through being just your brother – I want more. Much more."_

The devil hunter was a little chilly, the morning wind making him shiver. He hugged himself and brushed his shoulders, looking for warmth. The bruises on his neck hurt slightly. His left hand he could barely move. The blood was still oozing out of the wound but he didn't do anything about it.

He could care less about the demons at their home, about the wound or about becoming human, about the rare people in the streets, their surprised glances at the blood on his bare skin, about the fresh lines of the medieval houses, columns, doors, about the sun sparks in the sky-blue-coloured squares, arches and circles of the windows.

This morning the realization of what happened last night grew stronger with every passing second and the significance of the sex that seemed surreal yesterday, grew immensely now in his mind.

"_I did it with Verge…" _Dante pondered. It was going to affect both of them, inevitably. But the devil hunter could not understand how he was feeling about it. The only thing he knew – Vergil was still interested in him when he had become man again – and it scared him.

Why did Vergil want him? Before Dante told himself his brother was ill and injured, then Vergil was memory-less, then he was plain worried after Dante's trip to Hell, then Vergil was angry… Now Vergil was Vergil, no excuse.

The older Sparda frowned. He could always say when Dante was in deep thought and now was definitely the case. Apart from Dante in deep thought being something completely unnatural, Vergil sincerely wished to resolve the tension somehow. He wanted to talk, yet both of them stayed silent in the chilly morning.

"_I know you are afraid, Dante.__" _Vergil sighed to himself_. "It hurts knowing you are afraid of me. But even worse is the fact that I do not feel capable of holding back. I see you have your resolve, yet you give in at time – I remember the smell of your skin under the rain in this very car, and the way you reached up to my lips back at the agency. I won't be able to stay by your side and restrain myself. Forgive me, Dante, but I will run. Run away from you."_

The azure Jaguar stopped in front of Devil Never Cry. Vergil wanted to say something – anything. It would be nice to discuss it now, since the street was completely empty, only the sleepy figures of the old sky-eyed houses.

Dante threw his head back and stared at the sky. _"I know nothing." _The sun was slowly rising from behind the horizon and its golden and orange crown had already shone through half of the sky like a great firebird. _"I just know we have to stay together. All else we will work out, right?"_

Hands on the steering wheel, glaring ahead, Vergil saw from the corner of his eye as his younger twin slipped his fingers onto the silver door handle and pushed. Nothing happened.

'What the?..' the devil hunter grumbled.

'I may humbly guess that you inability to push this perfidious handle is due to your slightly **un-demonic** condition,' the older Sparda droned lazily. 'Might I add that it may be also a matter of a little **through-hole** in your left shoulder that will soon drown **my** Jaguar in your **not-so-demonic** blood? And by not-demonic, if I would be allowed to comment as such, I mean **human**, you dolt, which understates it needs immediate attendance.'

'Y'thinkso?' Dante eyed his brother skeptically. 'Maybe I just want to sleep since those stupid mothafakas of the demons woke me up too early? Not everybody wakes up before dawn, y'know?'

'Tch,' Vergil opened the door quickly and slid out of the driver's seat. Before the devil hunter saw it coming, the tall figure was standing near him, the door of the car was opened by strong slender fingers of a katana master, and Vergil had leaned in to embrace him.

'What the fuck, I said don't touch me!' Dante slapped the hands away, but his body didn't obey, he just ended up clutching to his older brother's bare chest for support. 'Why the heck am I so dizzy?' He muttered, hiding his face on Vergil's shoulder. There was the fresh smell of morning and the lingering afterglow of the smell of sex. Dante shuddered. It turned him on.

'You are dizzy from the blood loss, moron.' Vergil had his hands around his brother. 'Hold on,' the older Sparda pulled Dante and the younger twin ended up sitting on Vergil's hands with his legs on both sides of Vergil's waist.

'Uh,' the devil hunter just moaned and almost went to sleep immediately with his arms around his older brother's neck.

'Hang on, Dante, we'll go home and take care of your wound.' Vergil turned his head and kissed lightly the messed white locks. He grabbed the man in his arms tightly, pressing their bodies together, and hurried to the door of Devil Never Cry.

'Mmm, you're hot,' Dante meowed, very pleased.

'Wot?' Vergil's lips cut out and he froze while grabbing the iron doorknob. It was suddenly not chilly anymore with Dante hanging on him, breathing into his ear and saying he was hot. Even the wet feel of blood on Dante's left side didn't help. The blood was warm and it was slowly crawling down. The warm rich liquid of life was smeared between their bare chests. No, it just made everything much worse.

'My left arm is cold, Verge. So it's nice that you are warm. Kinda pleasant…' the devil hunter shamelessly cuddled into the embrace.

'I swear I'll kill you, you bitch,' Vergil hissed through grit teeth with venom and disappointment. He went into the agency. _"Of all the possible things to say! I will fucking kill you with overly fucking…despite how pathetic the pun is."_

'What the?..' Hearing the door open Trish lowered the newspaper to look up. What she saw was not a usual way Dante appeared on the doorstep of the agency – and instantly took her long leather-clad legs off Dante's desk, dropping the ever-suffering antique telephone to the floor, and rushed to tear the devil hunter out of the predator's paws. 'Dante, are you?-…'

Vergil stopped halfway to the staircase, arms around his younger twin in a possessive curl, engaged in a silent glaring battle with the demon.

'Chill, 'm fine,' the devil hunter rolled his eyes even though he couldn't see Trish. 'Just messed up yesterday a lil.'

'Yeah, rrrrrrright,' Trish narrowed her eyes, but decided against the morning murder and just leaned onto the back of the purple couch, her arms crossed.

'Look, I don't really feel like hearing any lectures now, y'know?' with great effort Dante tore his cheek from his brother's shoulder-blade and turned his head to look at her. 'Feel like shit.'

'Because of the wound and the bruises?' Trish studied with suspicion the half-naked twins, especially Dante's ass with the thin line of the thong that lead down into Vergil's fingers. She appreciated the skin-over-muscles masterpiece in front of her, but she didn't like the messed-up state and the wound. 'Nice ass there. What kind of demon did you fight today?'

'We didn't fight nothing,' Dante yawned. He had only one desire at the moment and it pretty much was a horizontal position in bed. 'Those're hickeys, not bruises. We had sex. Can we go now?'

Trish slowly, as if she had been training under Vergil for years and was now his full-blown apprentice, raised her eyebrow in a perfect fit of outraged disbelief. She let the silent pause stretch for several seconds, hoping that the older Sparda could feel the murderous vibes and the castrating intent.

'Want me to kill him?' She asked Dante nonchalantly. Trish knew from experience that the devil hunter informed her usually the hard way – exaggerating and sparing all the important details, but this time she decided against demanding the details - he could keep all of them to himself if sex with Vergil was really what happened to him.

'Nah,' the devil hunter yawned. 'T'was my idea anyway, so he's kinda not to blame.'

'Oh, I see,' Trish cocked her head, apparently skeptical.

'Do you think she is buying this bullshit?' Vergil asked his brother, tossing him up a little so that it was easier to hold him.

'Try her,' Dante countered, and he and Trish stared at the older Sparda expectantly.

'That's the truth,' Vergil tried.

Trish slowly, as if she had been training under Vergil for years and was now his full-blown apprentice, formed a perfect 'o' with her red lips and pronounced a very level and very implying 'Ohh. I see'.

'Whatever.'

'Whatever,' the twins said in chorus, and Trish's stare followed the Vergil-monster with Dante's head on the shoulder and Dante's legs on both sides of his hips heading upstairs.

'She'll deal with it,' the devil hunter told his brother, trying to start a conversation. He was afraid of leaving the word sex linger over them in silence.

'I know. Of course she will.' Vergil hit the wooden door with his bare foot and entered Dante's bedroom.

On one of the leather armchairs to the left were Dante's clothes meant to be worn that day, sky-blue jeans, a white tank top and a deep maroon shirt with sleeves rolled up in advance. In the armchair next to it were comfortably resting two red All-stars. The dirty white soles on the black dim-shining leather. Vergil itched to squish his twin's ribs in his embrace for doing that, but by some superhuman effort he made himself go to the bed and lay Dante onto the black cover.

'Stay put,' the older Sparda threatened. He frowned at his younger brother lying lazily, one hand over his eyes, the other thrown flaccidly across the pillow, legs bent at the knees and put slightly apart.

"_Couldn't he lie down like normal creatures do?"_ in his mind Vergil rolled his eyes. _"Close those fucking long marvelous legs of yours. For the sake of all sacred there is, is that the best way to lie in nothing but a women's thong in front of someone who told you they were gay? Get a bloody brain you problem-inducing ass! Oh, just why does it have to bother me so much?" _

'Stupidity must be contagious,' Vergil muttered to himself. He ignored a strange rather big yellow-papered package in the middle of Dante's antique desk and kneeled to ram through the drawers searching for the first-aid kit. He finally found it, in the drawer with a number of syringes and four different packs of strange colorful pills.

'Come on, sleeping beauty,' Vergil sat onto the bed near his younger twin. Dante smiled at the feel of his brother's body close, rested his left knee against Vergil's shoulder and moaned happily at the warm contact.

Vergil ignored his younger brother and opened the kit. Most of what was supposed to be there was crammed into one part of the box while in the other were pills, powders and ampoules with medicine of the type that always required prescription and was way stronger than what was recommended for healthy people. 'Why am I not surprised. Sit up, Dante.'

The devil hunter didn't flinch.

'Dante!' the older twin called again, louder. The devil hunter grumbled some swearing nonsense and turned onto the side.

Vergil sighed in defeat. It seemed the blood loss and the lack of sleep put Dante into a slumber. So Vergil had to do everything himself. He slowly uncurled Dante back into lying on his back and even pushed the younger Sparda's arms along his body. Seeing him for once not twisted into some strange position that even a yoga master would consider uncomfortable made Vergil remember the past. When their habits were not that different yet. When their hair fell down the same way. When they would switch places to fool around with their parents. When they would switch beds, clothes, shifts, tasks. When they would switch swords – and no one would notice. _"Could we now? Could we now know each other the same way?"_ Vergil leaned down and left a light peck of a kiss on his younger brother's forehead.

The wound had to be treated despite all the cozy feelings and reminiscences, so Vergil put the best antiseptic he could find onto the gauze and cleaned the hole on his brother's shoulder, touching the hurt skin very gently, dabbing at the wound lightly. He carefully rubbed away the long uneven stains of blood from Dante's chest, the blood trails leading across the muscles over to the nipple, lower to the worked-out stomach.

"_Why do I have to do this in the morning right after he said sex was no option? After what happened yesterday I am positively doomed to trying to imagine what it could be like if he was not a woman. If I liked it as it was, why do I have him __on my hands semi-conscious and almost naked on my hands with a fucking prohibition for any action?"_ Vergil threw away the used reddened cloth and prepared another for the hole from the side of Dante's back.

'Dante,' he insisted, but in vain. 'Fine. You want it bad? I'll give you bad.'

The older Sparda bent over to speak to his brother's ear. 'Day,' he called huskily.

'Mnph?' Dante reacted.

'Day come on, be a good boy and let me help you sit up.'

'Mhnah,' the white-haired sleepy disaster answered, yet took his arms, stretched them up, then let them fall onto Vergil's shoulders.

'There, hold on.' _"There is at least one thing I can give you now, this demon blood of mine. Let it be your remedy."_

Warm. Dante squeezed his eyes and let the hands take him higher and higher. The dizziness was light and pleasant. The hands were pushing away the cold shivers from his left shoulder. Then there was the icy smell of pine trees like in an evergreen forest. The soft short locks between his fingers, the back of the neck that he pushed closer, a snicker into his ear and the tender shift of skin on bare skin along his shoulders, chest and stomach. Someone very close. A prick of a needle and life flowing into his body, his brother's life, every cell becoming aware of the happiness and excitement, the fire of every colour of the rainbow pulsing in his veins. Lips whispering 'More'. His own lips. Against Vergil's ear. More of that liquid hot life, and calmness.

Dante's wound had closed completely, and the older Sparda threw the third syringe to the nightstand. He looked for a cloth to wipe away his brother's blood off his chest where their bodies had been touching, but his own skin had already sucked all the rich crimson and devoured it.

The devil hunter had fallen fast asleep finally, his fingers still in Vergil's disheveled hair, clutching at the short strands. In his uncomfortable position, sitting on the edge of the bed but bent down into a clumsy embrace, Vergil snickered yet again and rested his forehead against the side of Dante's neck.

'You need any first aid?' Trish asked from the doorframe, as she remembered too clearly the bloodied back and the black hole in Dante's shoulder.

Vergil jerked in surprise and turned to face her. Dante's hand slipped from his hair, brushed the older Sparda's cheek and fell down to the bed. 'No, thank you, that would be unnecessary since the wound has already closed and the condition is stable.'

"_I definitely need to restore my habits of being on guard no matter what. You are making me too lenient, you fool."_

The blonde leather-clad demon eyed the Sparda twins, and by the way they were intertwined there on the bed she knew misfortune was already here.

'Did you tell the truth?' Trish made herself ask and before Vergil had time to answer, she spoke herself. 'If yes, then best would be for you to disappear from his life. Dante had always been too aware of you, so now he will lose all peace of mind, if there ever was any. It had always been Vergil this, Vergil that, so you do not go around having sex with your – attention here – brother who follows **human** ways – and expect no consequences. You can't expect him to treat the fact as a trivial matter of the varied sex life he has, and this, I am pretty sure of it, is the way you see it.'

'And remind me,' Vergil frowned slightly, several white strands, previously messed up by Dante, fell across his face that wore the intimidating expression of when he had to battle – the lips in a thin line of concentration and the dark glower from under the brows with the azure pupils almost shining. He hadn't accepted the demon and her being nosy irritated him to no end. Apart from the fact that when someone tried laying out the truth that he had no desire to take note of, it drove him mad. 'Why do you even have any saying in this matter?'

'May-be,' Trish chuckled at the older Sparda and invited herself in, making a couple of strides, heels tocking on the wooden floor. Vergil wished for her heels to break. '…Maybe, because I am the one who takes care of the mess called Dante that you tend to leave behind every damn time so persistently?'

She had this face – their mother's. The long hair coloured gold. The red lips and the tender eyes. Despite all that, Vergil was going to murder her. Again. He had never had any need to slay a demon like her, but he was going to do it right this time, following all the rituals to make sure she wouldn't come back. He was no slayer himself – unlike Dante, no. Yet he was going to murder his own kind. In the eyes of a commoner that would be a demon-like thing – betrayal. Very typical for a lesser demon. If he had to do it for Dante, he would stoop so low. Why not, if the result was so obviously alluring?

'Did it not ever occur to you, that for once, maybe for once,' the older Sparda sat upright, took hold of his brother's hands and glanced at his sleeping face before continuing. 'All I wished for was that for once, when I leave something behind for reasons far beyond my powers, I wanted it not to be picked up by some bitch fake demon, or by some wench demon hunter with a wrecked life? That for once I wanted to look back and maybe – maybe! – see that I was still waited for? Cared for? All you mother fucking sluts do is come and use the moment of Dante's sorrow, and exploiting his weakness, you get to him.'

Trish fell deep in thought.

Vergil stood up, in total silence he moved Dante closer to the edge of the bed and pulled the devil hunter to lean onto himself, while with his free left hand he jerked the blanket together with the bedcover off to open up space on the bed his younger twin. Vergil carefully put his brother back onto the pillow and covered him up. Dante murmured something and got comfortable on the soft bed.

'Sleep well,' Vergil said, and brushed the hair off his forehead.

'You are being groundless.' Trish whispered angrily not to wake the sleeping devil hunter. 'Whether it is me, or Lady, it's never enough whatever we do. These couple of month Dante was a complete wreck, drunk and lifeless, practically buried here in the agency. When you leave or when you fight, you are always right, and Dante is left broken and what he needs to push him out of despair is always you. And it's only you!'

'Oh I sincerely hope so,' Vergil spit out. 'Now, if you have finished your unwanted preaching, leave for I need to change my clothes.' He came past the demon, his stare forcing her to move to the side to let him go, then stood in front of the wardrobe, looking at his reflection in the oval mirror of the ebony door of that old piece of furniture. Seeing as Trish didn't go out of the room, he elegantly moved his hand to the right – to the door which was right next to the wardrobe. 'If you please.'

'Shit,' the female demon sighed, threw the red All-stars out of the black armchair and plopped right onto it. 'I didn't mean for it to end like this. I just-… don't want your royal ass to hurt Dante, you know?'

'Today has proven that the royal ass belongs to Dante, actually, but I can see what you are saying.' Vergil threw his head back and closed his eyes for a second. The murderous desire was gone.

'So, are you gonna do it again?' he could hear the hope in her voice, but Vergil didn't know, whether it was the hope for him leaving or staying.

'I have some business to take care off,' he said and opened the wardrobe door, taking a peek at Trish's reflection as it slid in the mirror.

'I see,' she replied plainly and rose. 'Then, I'll leave Yamato at his desk in the lobby for you to pick up.'

'That would be much nicer of you than trying to rule my sex life like an overprotective mother of a thirteen-year-old.'

'I am you mother, you know,' Trish winked at him and left the room.

Her heels tocked on the wooden floor along the corridor and all the way to the lobby. Honey – the colour of the hair. The kind smile. Deceit. Pain and blood. He had never forgotten the way he started to serve Mundus, but now there was another thing Vergil understood. Dante got stronger having her at his side every day, Dante got enough courage and power to overcome what still haunted him, the death of their mother.

"_I guess, that's the reason you never really dwell on it. It's in the past. The past…"_ Vergil looked at the shirts and ties and jeans in the wardrobe. They would look nice on Dante, but much better were suited for himself.

'It's me you are thinking of now, is that right?' Vergil smiled and turned around to glance at his brother. 'Moron.'

The yellow-paper package caught his eye and the older Sparda came to the antique desk to have a look at the address. There was his name on it, and by the signature he knew it was from the old lady he called earlier. She was true to her word, as she had been years before, and the delivery was on time. Timed perfectly, even, for he had to leave.

Vergil took the package and left Dante to rest, closed the door to the bedroom, and headed towards the staircase. The wood under his bare feet were foreign, the paneled walls seemed distant, the black jeans of Dante's had the strange feel of the alien thing that he wanted to be his, but never would really feel his own. Devil Never Cry was not his home anymore, now that he had the determination to leave Dante.

A place with no Dante was not home. This was where he was going to.

A place with Dante, who was in despair, was not home either. This was where he was going to leave his brother.

Vergil was homeless. Hopeless. Helpless.

The feel of Dante's skin and lips would be forever cut out in his memory, with time those memories would become his only place of solace – his home. But would he be alive to come back and relive it all? Would Dante be alive?

The heavy feeling of uneasiness that Vergil couldn't ignore sat awkwardly on his cold shoulders.

'Hay,' he heard Lady enter the agency, the door closed with a soft zing of the glass and a click of the lock. 'Anybody home?' she apparently asked Trish.

'Yeah.' He could feel the snicker in those words all the way to this floor. 'The princess is asleep, and the bitch is the watchdog.'

"_Fuck off,"_ Vergil thought, yet his sorrow was much more significant so his lips were pressed closed and he stayed frozen at the top stair, listening to the far voices of the women.

'Hah, are they fine?' Lady asked. She already knew what was important, so now her main goal was to sent Trish away.

'Mostly, why?' there was the sound of a page turning.

'See, there is this job, but I can't go. I have just returned from across the continent and I am so tired I'm falling down. If thy are fine, d'you mind taking it?' Vergil could tell Lady was feeling uneasy, however he didn't know why.

'Sure, is that the same place?' the newspaper fell to the billiard table and the ball clicked at the wooden wall.

'Yeah.' Lady was almost ashamed and the older Sparda could only guess what could have happened. After he decided to leave Dante behind once again, they all seemed no more than characters in a play, in a small separate world, something trivial and unimportant, something that had nothing to do with his horror of the future.

'Take care of the idiots,' the heels tocked to the door, it opened and closed. Vergil wished those heels would snap and she'd fall gracelessly right down. His wish was more of a thought to show himself how he didn't trust her than a true wish. Who cared about the stupid demon when he had to leave his brother with no notice yet again.

He could have written a letter. Last time Vergil tried to, he spent three sleepless nights, ended up restless and wordless.

He could have spoken to Dante. Last time he wanted to talk to Dante he stood like an idiot in front of the entrance to Devil Never Cry, hearing out his brother's pain, unable to say anything. Ended up being thrown away for the pain he caused Dante. If only he could tell Dante. One needed strength to show his emotions and Vergil didn't have that kind of strength. This was one thing he admired his younger twin for.

'Hate to lie,' Lady murmured and fixed her white striped jacket.

'Did you lie?' Vergil asked, walking into the lobby.

'Oh, you here,' the female demon hunter started. 'What if I did?' She lowered her dark glasses to look at the older Sparda over them.

Two differently coloured irises stared at him. 'You killed your father and are proud of it, you work as a demon hunter and say it out loud, you have different eyes and are absolutely not a typical female beauty, and even so you do not care, since you prefer guns for companions.' Vergil placed his package onto the desk near the old telephone and the dark blue case with golden cord where Yamato rested. 'What would you of all people need to lie for?'

'Hm,' Lady threw her glassed on the table, tousled her short black hair and sat down onto the couch, one hand on the back, legs crossed. 'I wanted to be alone with you?'

'Excuse me?' Vergil turned around and shot a questioning look at the demon hunter. She laughed, unbuttoned her jacket and let it fall down.

'I have it bad for bad boys?' Lady was sitting on the purple coach in her high red war shoes and the small garment that was her white striped shorts. Her long legs, slender arms and her breasts were now on the display for Vergil.

'I…' he was not really ashamed or confused or embarrassed. The older Sparda was surprised above all.

'Don't rush,' She said and pat on the place near her. 'Come here.'

'I don't desire **you**.' Vergil told her. It was after that time with the barman that he felt the need to tell her that.

'I don't care.' Lady laughed in his case. 'There is a male body, and a female body, what else there has to be? Come. I have wanted to do it for a very long time. Admired you for so many different things. For the way you follow your goal, for your attitude towards your fighting. Consider it a favour for me, if you want.'

'Fine,' Vergil came closer to her, but instead of sitting down, he took her hand and pulled Lady up into his embrace.

'Feels unexpected,' she palmed his naked chest.

"_Dante didn't yesterday."_

'May I?' Lady touched his cheek with her fingers – _"Red-painted fingernails."_ – and stood on her toes to kiss him. The demon who had her in his arms answered, but it was bewildering, he was not passionate of cold, he didn't pay her much attention. The kiss was mechanic, like his mind was occupied by an important thought and his heart was not into it.

"_Soft. Softer than that time. Warm. Submissive__. Too easy. Predictable."_

Suddenly, as if he had lost interest in the kiss, Vergil was pushing Lady roughly against the wall, her cheek rubbing uncomfortably against wood, her elbow hurting after it hit an edge of a bookshelf.

"_Gunpowder and sweet spices,"_ he was kissing her shoulder. Too much, too heavy for his sophisticated senses. The soft flesh in his hand was her breast. _"Bigger than I expected… is it really as hard to have them as he told me…_"

'You are hurting me!' Lady groaned as the demon squeezed her breast and pushed her shoulder and hip painfully into the hard shine surface of the wooden panel.

She moaned and groaned something. Vergil didn't care why.

'Stop!' Lady panicked, when her first complaint was not heard. 'I said stop it!' She shrieked and somehow pushed the demon back. 'Are you fucking crazy?' she panted heavily as he stared at her pointlessly. He was gorgeous and even more sexy than usual in only the jeans and with the messy hair, but he was somewhat absent-minded.

'What?' Vergil simply asked.

'What were you doing?'

'You said you didn't care…' the older Sparda twin shrugged.

'Bastard!' Lady slapped him hard.

Vergil closed his eyes and felt the sting. _"What is the point of a lover with whom I can not be myself? Why can't I be rough when I want to be rough?"_

'I'm gay,' he sighed and went to the couch to pick up Lady's jacket.

'The remnants of my dignity say I should leave very offended,' she barked at him, snatched the jacket from him, and stormed out.

'I should dress up,' Vergil told himself in the empty lobby. He tore the yellow wrap paper from the package on the desk.

The light blue long coat was perfectly identical to the one he had lost long ago. The shade, the white snake-like pattern on the right side, the golden cord.

Dante opened his eyes. The warmth was gone. So was Vergil. It was a bad sigh, always, so he jumped off the bed and went down, but was rooted to the floor to find his older brother in front of the agency door, clad in his old blue cloak, blue trousers and the high shoes. In Vergil's hand was Yamato, pretty much like when he had jumped off the damned cliff.

Vergil was faltering, or rather thinking something through. Even Dante knew Vergil did not falter. Just didn't.

'You wanted to go without me, right?' the devil hunter said bitterly.

The figure of his twin's jerked, and Dante saw how Vergil almost drew his sword out while turning around – a common reaction from the older Sparda on guard. There was vexation on Vergil's features, eyes were dark with annoyance and he chuckled darkly, as if it was a pity that he saw what he did. Dante's chest went cold.

Vergil's heart sank at the sight of Dante. So much for the secret departure. What was he going to say? And what was Dante going to say?

"_Please, don't stay there silent. Yell, shout, start a fight, just say something…"_ Vergil prayed. He wanted to say no to the question, but it would be a lie. He would have tried to say yes, but couldn't bring himself to voice it. So Vergil stayed, looking at his younger twin in wordless admittance of his unjust action.

Dante got no answer. So for once, he tried to do everything the way he always wanted it to be. He stormed angrily to his older brother and pushed Vergil roughly outside.

The older Sparda stumbled but stayed straight, pushed outside of the agency. It reminded him of the last time he stood there speechless. That story had a bad end.

"_Say something, and I promise you, I'll tell you how I feel. How I really feel."_

But Dante lifted his head and there was a smile on his face.

"_I can do it. I __can say this to you, Verge."_

'At least say goodbye this time, asshole,' Dante whispered softly.

There was only one word worth saying, so Vergil whispered back, 'Good bye, brother.'

Dante slammed the door shut in Vergil's face.

He didn't want Vergil to see him, when his pain became tearless. He turned around, still wearing nothing but that ridiculous thong, walked upstairs and right into the bathroom, locked the door behind him, got into the bath and coiled there into a nubbin.

**...endo chap 26****...**

**I know. I'm a bitch and all.**

Gve me 10 reviews and know what happens next within 2 weeks.

(yeah if i get 10 reviews fast I kinda promise I'll update within 2 weeks from the 10th rev)

**Next:**** somebody goes to the demon world. Guess 2 or 1? Nevan finds the shoes. Someone rides Geryon. Vergil's trial – how long will he survive without dante? The bets, ladies and gentlemen, the bets!**

Love you all who stay with me.

Ethan.


	27. Two in distress, p1: Caught

...

**Babbling**

...

**Warnings:** kinda gore? Blood? U know, the usual. Don't eat while reading! I mean it!

**Betad**** not yet**

'Dialogue' "_Thoughts"_

_Voices of the past_

_Italics _also mean very_ articulated and stressed words _instead of **bold ** cause they give you the image of _awkwardness _in saying things

**Won't delay you just read 0_0**

...

**Chap 2****7**

**Two in distress**

**Part 01. / Caught**

The minute stretched like a slimy spider's web, sticking to Dante's cold shoulders. The white coating of the cast iron bathtub felt not porcelain, but rather emery paper. He stared it the small red spots and the rusty leaks, waiting for the icy shackles to descend onto him, like they always did when Vergil left.

But there were only the misty butterflies and a slow steady snowfall, when the white flakes floated down onto the ground into the absolute darkness and absolute stillness.

'I am calm,' Dante said to himself. The small red dots on the porcelain coating of the bathtub as well as the rusty leaks were steadily flowing down into absolute whiteness and absolute stillness. 'Good bye, brother, he said.'

Dante turned onto his back and threw his head back, laughing.

It was as close as he got to having a normal relationship with his brother. So much more than before. The two simple words, yet it was somewhat pleasant.

On the other hand, the fuck? It was ridiculous. So much pain, so much anguish, for what? For a fucking moment of shock, when he learned Vergil was leaving behind his back?

'No matter what I do,' Dante roared with laughter, his slim fingers clutching at the white edges of the bathtub, nails digging into the white cubes of sandy sugar of the coating. 'You still go! No matter what I try…'

Suddenly he stilled, looking up at the ceiling. The plaster was all heavily wounded, shot through by the reddish leaks.

"_Are they the leaks from my blood? Since those times when __I basked in it right here, in this very bathroom?"_ He screwed his head off to the side to look at the lace of the leaks from another point.

'Nah,' Dante answered himself, 'I almost forgot that the leaks leak down only, not up.' He easily snaked out of the bathtub and came to the sink elegantly, putting his hands on either side of it and staring into his own eyes. 'If they went up they would be soars then?' Dante asked his disheveled self in the mirror.

'Chill, man,' his reflection told him. 'You seem to be going nuts.' His other self frowned.

'May be,' Dante threw his hands into the air, spun around and walked into the bedroom. 'I feel like I am floating, y'know. Weightless. Like I am the air. I don't want anything. I am not anything. I'm nothing, maybe?'

'You miss him?' his other self asked, peeping out of the glass of the window.

'Dunno.' Dante threw himself onto the bed. The black cover smelled like Vergil. If he closed his eyes, he could almost feel the azure fleurs-de-lis grow out of the velvet and open their thin cool petals, spreading that aroma of winter.

'What are you gonna do?' the soft whisper came into Dante's left ear.

'Dunno. I don't know what to do. He is on his own and there is no place for me on that path. I'm lost, I guess.' Dante sat up. 'Wonder where I should go.'

'Anywhere should be fine, then. Any road you choose will take you somewhere in the end, right?' the whisper chanted.

'I truly wanted to sulk, y'know? But somehow, I don't feel any disappointment. No despair. Even if I wanted to, hurting myself is truly useless. I can't die, can't have the luxury.

Hurt… seems like Vergil is the only piece on the chessboard of life that can go on hurting me even when I believe I have suffered through it all. When I become numb, he comes back still, to pierce right through. He's the only one.' Dante let out another laugh. 'I'm invincible, then, to all others. Whoever it is, as long as it is not Verge, I can survive. Now one can truly hurt me.'

On one of the leather armchairs there were sky-blue jeans, a white tank top and a deep maroon shirt with sleeves rolled up in advance. Two red All-stars were comfortably resting in the armchair next to it. The dirty white soles on the black dim-shining leather.

'He'd kill me for this,' Dante smiled. 'He likes order.'

'What are you gonna do?' the whisper persisted.

'I'm going.'

'Where to?'

'Whatever. There is no point in staying where he had left.' Dante stood up and strode to the wardrobe. He pushed the thin lines of fabric at his hips down and the thong fell to the old parquet floor.

'Hmmm,' the devil hunter hummed as he swung the wardrobe open. The hinges squealed in horror and stretched, holding the wooden doors and showing him the colourful leather and silk and jeans guts of the furniture piece.

Dante took out a pair of snow white jeans.

'I've lent you mine, so I hope you don't mind,' he sang out and squeezed into them. The garment fit him perfectly, embracing the hips and all along his legs, even though it was not to him that it belonged. 'Huh,' he snickered, 'after all, we are one, you and me.'

The thin pale fingers took out a shirt, the one that Dante had taken the day he was leaving their old house. The one that belonged to Vergil.

'The white ironed collar, the long sleeves, the perfect cuffs. You think you can replace him?' Dante's other self sneaked out of the small round mirror on one of the black wardrobe doors. 'You are not him, and no matter how you need Vergil, you are you, and he is himself. Who are you now, anyway? You don't-…'

The glass shattered and the broken splinters fell to the floor.

'Just shut it,' Dante shrugged and rubbed his hurt hand. Pain was there longer now that he was human.

He buttoned the shirt up and fished a small black box from one of the shelves. The lid went up and opened two small red hearts of the wardrobe. Red and round, they were pulsing with colour, the old cufflinks of their father's. Dante looked at them one last time and let them rest at his hands. Two perfect eyes of a devil on his white shirt.

There were things to be done. In one of the drawers of the desk there was a bottle of wine and in another there still was a pack with white powder. His fingers opened the pack habitually and the white dew descended into an empty glass to be drowned by the dark transparent crimson of the wine that followed.

'Isn't it a lethal dose?' the annoying whisper asked.

'There is only one way to find out,' Dante let the substances mix, slowly turning the glass, and then made the first sip of the liquid.

"_The death or the salvation from any pain. Make me numb to my human body. __I need to overcome my mortal ways for what I am about to attain."_

'For the feast in you honour,' he saluted, holding his glass high, and drank the drug, sip by sip, gulp by gulp, dry and sweet, bitter and cold. The burning medicine.

'Time to go,' Dante told himself, kneeled, and reached out under the bed.

The box was rather old, but it was the first time Dante wanted to open it. It was for special occasions, he never wanted to soil them before. But it was the time.

He opened the box and took the All Stars out. He never dared to wear them, the cloth would be ruined immediately and then there would be no way to clean them up. But this time, he wanted to have evidence of the path he intended to walk, to have some reminder.

He unlaced them and put them on. Snow white. Let them drench in mud and blood.

Dante wanted freedom. The freedom to do whatever he pleased, to kill and be killed, to soil himself and go mad.

'I am not listening to anyone anymore. I'm just doing what I have to do. Unwanted? Unprepared? Whatever, really. Fuck trying to figure things out. They never seem to make any sense. So screw it, I'm fine with the world of nonsense.'

All dressed in white, Dante went downstairs, lighter than a feather, like he was floating through air. He felt like Vergil. So he combed his hair back with his fingers. All around there were blue fleurs-de-lis blooming.

Downstairs, at the garage, there was the White Gloom in the Jaguar. Dante walked up to it and swung it out of its white confinement. It was motionless. Of course it would, he didn't have a shred of demon power now.

Dante laughed nastily at the sword. He felt like an absolute bastard.

He took the scabbard, sheathed the sword back and left Devil Never Cry through the back door. He was human now in body, but his soul was turning darker and darker, as he realized he lost his ability to cry. He only had his path now, paved with azure fleurs-de-Vergil's that spread the cool and calm smell of fresh snow.

…

The older Sparda walked down the street, farther and farther from Devil Never Cry. The sun was up and the day had just recently begun, but he was dumbstruck, so Vergil walked ahead with no real thought; only feeling strangely calm.

_When you are not together, you fall apart. _She was repeating in his head, her face beautiful as always, her lips red and her hair the colour of honey.

He was always this way. He had to leave. It was his curse. His lack of willpower and his lack of control over his emotions.

There were things Dante didn't know about. Things Vergil was afraid to tell his brother even when they were together as children. Things, that made their mother cry. Like when he staked butterflies to his desk and watched them slowly cease all movements and die. Like when he tied their dog to the fence, carefully, a proper knot for each paw, and left it there for days. He was afraid to lose it. He didn't know it suffered. He just wanted to be sure. He wanted to have it.

Like when he was caught with a rope and knife straddling the sleeping Dante.

_When you are not together, both of you fall apart. _She was repeating in his head, her face beautiful as always, her lips red and her hair the colour of honey. _But when you are together, you have to stay in control of your emotions. Or you will end up hurting Dante. You could even kill him. So when you realize you slip and the emotions take over you – __**run**__._

"_He just wanted a good bye"_, Vergil pondered, clutching the sheath of Yamato. It used to be enough for him, to feel the familiar coldness of the blade, to know he had Yamato by his side. He could go on before. So why not now?

"_He just wanted a goodbye, and __I said it… it was the only possible thing for me to do. I couldn't stay. What if I slipped? What if I had forgotten everything and gave in to the desire?"_

Vergil remembered tearing the metal hook out of his brother's body, breaking another rib. The way Dante gasped against his lips and the wave of shock sent his younger twin's chest off the bed up. Dante, falling down like a broken doll. Dante screaming, open mouth sliding along his moist lips, mixing blood and saliva. Dante throwing head back into the pillows, the force of his arms bending the iron of the bedhead. White hair scattered on the blood-stained pillow. The smooth curve of Dante's neck, the light skin so easy to break. Dark bruises like ugly roses blossomed under the skin on his shoulders and chest; at many places their predator thorns broke through into long deep slashes and the blood was oozing out like tears of pain.

'The monster is me,' Vergil muttered and quickened his pace. The wind didn't seem tender anymore, its claws were trying to catch Vergil's cloak, to tear at his hair and drag, drag him back. 'I won't go back. It was the only and the right thing to do.'

On that cliff, defeated and disappointed, his body too heavy, Vergil had let himself fall. He'd heard a startled shout and there was Dante, wordlessly running to him, offering a hand. It was as if saying, 'Don't go!'

In the end, Vergil never understood why. Why did Dante still go after him, after everything that happened. Yet he never forgot that face, the silent plea to stay.

The very same face that Dante had as he had slapped the door close in front of the older Sparda.

Vergil stopped. His hand that was holding Yamato trembled.

"_God bye, brother, __I said."_

'It was the only thing I should have never said…' Vergil told the wind and the empty street, but the world stayed indifferent and silent.

"_Dante. Dante would forgive everything. Dante gave my hope and the will to believe in myself. Dante withstood me no matter how hard it was, no matter how painful it was. He wouldn't care for my twisted ways…"_

"_Dante, I'm sorry…"_ And Vergil ran.

…

'Dante!' he shouted, coming closer to the door of Devil Never Cry. The damnable thing was not transparent. The older Sparda flew up the stairs to the entrance, his fingers smashing the cast iron railings with too much force. 'Dante!'

He banged at the door and the yellowish glass ringed and cracked. There was no answer.

'Damn it, Dante!' Vergil kicked the door open, the lock coming off from the wooden frame and the flinders rising to the air like tears.

The lobby was empty, Vergil's heart started to race with a bad feeling.

'Dante, fuck you, where are you?' he shouted again and dashed upstairs, losing Yamato on the way. The sword fell from the sure fingers to the floor, disregarded like many other useless things, and lay there, forgotten.

Vergil knocked the bedroom door open, but there was also nothing. Only the silent dead furniture.

'Fuck!' he grumbled and pushed his way into the bathroom, back to the corridor, he knocked out every single door on the second floor to check every room, but found nothing. Not wanting to believe his own eyes, Vergil ran back down. The kitchen was empty, the back rooms, the lobby. Everything stayed silent, dead and Dante-less.

The older Sparda came to a halt and slowly sat down on Dante's chair at his desk, breathing hard and some strands of his disheveled white hair falling into his face.

He was not happy with Yamato. He was not happy with having his cloak back. He was not bloody happy with anything.

'Fuck it all to the fires of Hell!' Vergil roared and smeared everything from the desk to the floor in a huge swipe of his hand. The old fashioned phone fell to the side and broke, some metal parts of it flew further to the floor; there was a rain of papers and invoices which floated in the air angrily and a huge pack of magazines scattered on the floor.

'Fuck!' Vergil panted.

"_I left him for several bloody minutes and some bastards already took him away! Who was it this time? If I ever see some other whore at his side I swear, I'm going to cut her throat and pull out her veins and eat her heart for dinner."_

'Where are you, Dante?' Vergil shouted but there was only the rustling of paper. 'Damn!'

He didn't care anymore. Everything in the agency drove him mad and reminded him of his powerlessness.

Vergil threw the table over, and rushed to the sofa. The cloth tore easily under his hands, the metal springs coming out, the wood breaking. Some piece of the leg of the chair he threw down broke the low glass table into a net of splinters. The bookshelves were very easily torn off the walls. One by one the shelves went down, each one starting a new wave of the storm of paper and dust, the old manuscripts floating in the air in shreds.

'Fuck it all!' Vergil roared as he threw the last bureau to the floor and it broke into pieces with the shock of the fall. 'Dante!'

He was so angry he just wanted to let it all out. He didn't care that he was prohibited to lose control since childhood. So Vergil just let it all go as he screamed his heart out.

A shockwave beat the windows out of the whole building and in the middle of the rain of paper shreds and flinders Vergil's body changed.

The veins pulsed through his body, shining with bright cyan, silver glimmering strings. His skin darkened slowly to the darkest shade of the blue of the night and with the depth of the colour it received the sturdiness. The scales slowly stuck from under Vergil's skin and covered his body, leaving the face, the chest and the insides of his arms open. There the hardened flesh turned lavender and white. His eyes brightened and the irises shrank and disappeared.

The dark matter of the demon energy was smoking around him in insane shreds of mist, pulsing through his body and eloping his body, weaving its way through his clothes and dissolving them until Vergil was standing up naked.

There were no runes anymore, since the power he had was older than any language and the despair he was feeling was deeper than words. Only the dark matter slowly covered his body and petrified into the hard armor of the pure abyssal black colour. The high shoes, the knee protection, the protector plates for his legs and arms that fit perfectly; over the misty silky material that covered his body as undergarments was the hardened armor plates. The sheathes on both sides of his hips, the straps that held all the hardened plates together and the plates themselves, all was pitch black with intricate decorations of thin glowing cyan lines, the patterns as random as the design of ice on water in winter.

Vergil sighed.

"_It must have been this clarity __I really needed to cla__i__m my demon powers. The clarity of what I want to achieve. All I want right now is not power, is not revenge. I just want Dante."_

_But when you are together, you have to stay in control of your emotions. Or you will end up hurting Dante. You could even kill him._ She was repeating in his head, her face beautiful as always, her lips red and her hair the colour of honey.

"_I am way past caring about the consequences. So be whatever comes."_

Vergil came out of Devil Never Cry. And every small demon in the city and its suburbs knew there was something huge, something powerful and scary close by.

…

The trickster fingers with polished red nails rubbed the pole with incredible easiness of an action done too many times and then suddenly stilled. Nevan stopped in the middle of the dance, her body frozen yet shuddering under the impact of fear and excitement. She blinked, not hearing the beat of the music, and uncoiled from her curved stance on the dance floor, standing up straight. Her red hair a mess, pink glossy lipstick smeared, topless, one black net stocking unfastened from the garter belt and slipping down, the demon stared at the door, because there - there was the power and might she hadn't felt for quite some time. The power that was to be , worshipped, served and knelt before.

On her high-heeled open-toe shoes Nevan walked surely down the small stairs at the side of the dance floor, glided between the tables, hips and breast brushing past the bewildered visitors of the strip club, and strode out of _Succubus_. She knew from experience that there were forces, which you just had to go greet and serve, those who would otherwise dispose of garbage and the garbage would be where you'd find yourself swept to. So Nevan quickly left the club and leaped into the air to rise to the figure of the demon that was soaring above the city.

Even from below she could see the ragged black wings that spread from the demon's back like a giant cloak, the king's mantel of sorts, sparkling with occasional blue lightning outbursts. The figure clad in tight-fit armor of abyssal darkness, Nevan only could see his back, so there, high in the sky above the city, where the shadow bats had brought her to, she knelt and bowed her head in respect. Maybe, the demon already knew she was there, or, maybe, which would be more common, he hadn't even noticed her, because the power he emitted himself overrode her timid presence.

Nevan had lost most of her power after the fight she had with Dante, and so coming back to the demon world would have been a kind of suicide for her. Thus she stayed, but if the man in front of her was a follower of the demon traditions, the best fate she could wish for would one of a sex toy. She didn't even dare to think of other possibilities; that would have been too depressing.

'I'd love to be of any assistance to you, oh the lord of the damned ones.' Nevan said humbly.

'You think you can?' The man turned around, a grim expression on his face, white brows knit in thought, azure iris-less eyes glowing. He pushed his short snow-white locks back in a habitual gesture with his right hand.

'Fuck, Vergil?' Nevan jerked back and almost lost balance in mid-air. 'Go to Hell, asshole! I was frightened for life as I thought it was one of those high-class bastards from the Demon world. What is the meaning of this shit?'

'Now, is that how you talk to _oh the lord of the damned ones_?' Vergil's lips twisted into a sneer.

'Piss off,' Nevan pouted. 'What are you doing here anyway?' She crossed her arms, expecting the answer.

'Oh, please, cover yourself with something, will you?' Vergil rolled his eyes at the sight at Nevan's bare breasts resting leisurely over her crossed arms. 'Spare my gay mind the disaster of having to face _those_. Why were you at work when it's not even six? It's a little bit early for striptease don't you think?'

'Saturday to Sunday is non-stop work. Thankfully, that's a whole load of money. Which I am losing right at the moment,' Nevan pointed her finger with the bright red nail at Vergil for emphasis, 'so be brief, what the fuck is going on and why are you here.'

'I am looking for Dante.'

'You fought **again**?' the demoness laughed. 'You two morons. So he left?'

'It is slightly more complicated, so let us go down. This time around I wouldn't mind some assistance. And if you are going to help me find Dante, let's first get to Devil Never Cry and dress you into something decent.' Vergil swung his wings, waved over Nevan with the wind of both air and electric power and dove down through the skies. She followed.

It was easy to switch back to his human form, the armor was dispelled, and the fabric of the trousers, the vest and the blue cloak enveloped Vergil, restoring his previous attire, but deep inside the older Sparda knew he could always reach out to the power he finally acquired. The two mystic swords were gone from his hips and he remembered Yamato. Through the broken door of the agency Vergil came back to Devil Never Cry. He spotted the sword immediately on the floor and bent down to reacquire it.

'Are you that scared of pussies, big boy?' Nevan was tugging on a white t-shirt that once belonged to Dante. She smoothed it out and sat onto a turned-over chair.

'Let's just say that currently I am not interested in anything that isn't Dante,' Vergil swung the sheathed sword with easiness, successfully getting rid of any splinters, dust or shreds of paper that had stuck to it.

'I assume he is back to his male form, then.' Nevan sighed in relief. 'Does it mean that the outburst of power was what you received after the Ultimate Gift?'

'And just how do **you **know about the Gift?' Vergil turned around suddenly and the demoness found the sharp edge of Yamato pointing with bloodlust at her throat.

'Easy boy,' she chuckled nervously. 'There has to be someone to look after Dante when he is moping over you, you know? Who do you think helped him, dressed him and prepared him for the Ultimate Gift?'

The anger filled the room, like a heat wave, it was hard to breathe and hard to move. Nevan stared into Vergil's eyes, not blinking. He was glaring daggers back.

'No, there is no need for someone like you said.' He finally let out the hiss of hatred. 'There is no need for any of you whores going around Dante, helping him or taking care of him.' His hand shook with the shivers of fury, then suddenly he spotted something behind the demoness and in a swish of ice-cold air he slipped to that object.

Nevan finally let out the breath she was holding.

'Look here,' the older Sparda called her and she turned around, sensing misfortune.

There, in the middle of the chaos of the broken furniture and the torn books, stood a pair of black shiny leather stiletto shoes, those which she gave Dante, her favourites and one of the most expensive pairs she ever had. The ones she really loved and very rarely even wore herself.

Vergil leered at Nevan and with one straight and sure movement stepped right on them; there were two pitiful cracks, and the stilettos broke down to pieces.

'Fucker!' Nevan let out a wail like a banshee and stared at the destroyed treasure, powerless.

'What is mine,' Vergil's low dark voice sliced through the room, 'remains mine. To the day I destroy it myself, bitch.'

_"Verge..."_ there was suddenly a low whisper in Vergil's mind. And then, clear as if they were said right to his ear, came Dante's words: _"__Verge… come back. __...__save me, brother. Take me away from here. Please?__"_

…

Dante walked down the streets of the town, a small smile on his face. To the passers-by he seemed like any other of the humans in the city, yet his smile was not a kind one.

The feeling of weightlessness still was inside him, and Dante walked easily, gracefully, with a simple plan in mind; the plan that made him smile involuntary in sheer happiness. It was not the true happiness that a human would experience however, but the dark happiness of abandoning all hope, the bright feeling of a straight way in front of him, when he had nothing to lose.

His plan was really simple and consisted of a start and two options. The start was to visit the 45. Caliber Warks and equip himself with a huge package of demon-destructing means. He realized he was not a half-breed anymore, so his enchanted guns, his favourite Ebony and Ivory would not work, for they did not have the bullets, while he didn't have the power to lend them anymore. So Ebony and Ivory were left behind, in Devil Never Cry. Dante had to start his journey along this road again, alone, and human.

He squeezed White Gloom gently and the cold feel of the sword gave him peace of mind. Normally, it wouldn't but he was feeling very Vergil, so a katana felt reassuring.

This time, Dante for once in his life didn't have to deny or prove anything. It was refreshing, like squash on Sunday morning or like Vergil after shower. This time, it was only himself, nothing more. The demon power was gone, there was no more heritage and he could finally find out what he was worth, himself alone.

The plan Dante had in mind was not exactly the plan, but more of an intention. Well, it was never his forte to form the plans, he just acted, and he hoped it would just work. Yet he was slightly more cautious than usual, for if he was to be wounded, it would be a real problem. And if he was to be killed - hell, that would be one royal pain in the ass. He didn't want the journey to end this fast.

Anyway, Dante was on his way to 45. Caliber Warks; the people around, strangely, smiled back at him and found him a rather pleasant young man. The people seemed the whole world of colourful flowers of all kinds, a flower blooming from behind each human Dante passed. A huge orange daffodil, a stalk with a heap of thousands of bluebells, a giant purple rose. All of those invisible flowers turned their heads to Dante as their owners turned their smiles at him. The devil hunter beamed back at them and at the same time damned them all in his mind for living happily in this forsaken city that was started by a demon and not caring about the long-going war between the Human and the Demon world. He had a constant feeling that as soon as he turned from the flowers they would let their true nature out, they would open their throats and bare their huge uneven fangs and chattering their teeth at him. But Dante was not afraid, he was just really angry. He damned them not because he hated them, since he really didn't but because he was envious. They could have homes and live together; they could have as many quarrels as they wanted, without the bloody fear of their brother leaving to fucking die.

Dante was not going to let Vergil die. No, this was the sole reason for everything, for choosing this blank-white path paved with fragile azure fleurs-de-lis - not to let Vergil be harmed. And here the two options came into view.

After getting the new firearms - for swords he had White Gloom, which was light and easy to handle, since the devil hunter was not sure he would be able to handle Rebellion or any of other arms he had at home the way he used to toy with them - so after getting armed Dante intended to invade the Demon world. He still had enough demon blood in his wretched body to be able to breathe in there and put up a decent fight. Or so he hoped.

Vergil, after leaving Devil Never Cry, had gone to seek entrance to the Demon world himself, there was no doubt about it, so Dante intended to follow his older twin from the shadows and make sure there was nothing in his brother's way. That was option one.

Option two existed in case Vergil would not go straight to conquering the Demon world, but would invent some cunning plan. In that case Dante would just have to kick the grand demon's asses in advance.

Dante smiled again. He had reached his destination. The old name of the workshop was in huge neon letters over the two gun-filled French windows. 45. Caliber Warks had no customers, as always. Most of the people Tony had business with had known him for time long enough not to come personally. Dante, however, enjoyed choosing his guns himself. Especially when those were not his custom-made babies, but some junk he had to deal with. Of course, guns at this very workshop were never junk but it was all garbage compared to his old companions.

Except for the girl, this little space under the low ceiling was the kingdom of firearms: they were. Two low tables to the left were their infirmary and revival altar, where the skilled fingers took them apart and fixed them back together. The lower part of the counter had bullets and chargers under the glass.

Dante pushed the wooden door and entered. The bell rang happily. Inside the small room was all bright; hung gracefully along the walls, lain with respect onto the stands, shielded inside the two cabinets at the back wall, hidden behind the glass, the barrels were covered with golden powder of the sunlight, the rays of light falling trough the huge French windows in wide curtains of fairy mist. Strangely, the lively bitch was not at the cashier, and there was no sign of Tony, and as Dante knew, Tony never had breaks. No matter when, no matter what, rain or snow, summer or winter, holidays or busiest days, Tony was always doing his blacksmith things.

'Hey!' the devil hunter called and leaned over to the counter, looking at the bullets. They were all different, painted different colour to mark the firepower. Dante doubted any ordinary gunslinger could understand what the numbers and the colour really meant. The devil hunter sighed: he might need bigger calibers and more firepower since there was now no magic behind his tricks. No free bullets anymore, he was back to square one and he would have to **reload**. Dante shuddered.

'Come here, lazy ass. I'm in for some shopping.' The silence stayed the same impenetrable wall. He could even hear the two flies at the window.

'Whatever,' Dante said then, 'I'm taking it anyway, you'll just have to put it on my bill.' He looked around, spotted a shotgun on one on the stands at the windows and leaving the White Gloom to rest on the counter, came close to have a feel of it.

'Damn,' Dante frowned as he tried to take aim with one hand. 'Will still be too heavy and to slow to reload.' He chuckled with disappointment and put the shotgun back to its place. Looking for something smaller, Dante came back to the counter, opened the low wooden door and went into that narrow place between the shelves and the counter which was usually occupied by Tony himself or by that noisy girl. There was no one to stop him, so Dante took three oldest cases from the shelves and opened then.

In the first was a revolver which was improved by some of Nell's boys, it could fire two bullets at the same time, the two-barrel revolver with an intricate name of the Blue Rose.

'Hell no,' Dante's face distorted, 'I am not taking a fucking revolver that eats up two bullets for one target, but more importantly, I'm not taking the frigging gun that is called _Rose_. Ewwh, nope.'

He slammed the metal case close and opened the next one, dark wooden case with bronze corners. There was... nothing. It was fucking empty. Dante rolled his eyes, throwing the empty case to the side.

In the third case was unusually heavy. Dante raised an eyebrow, seeking the answer, and noticed that while the front of the case was covered with crimson velvet, the corners, the handles and the hinges were made out of cast iron, so he guessed the bloody case was a one piece. Inside, fixed in it's place, was an old-styled gun with a black handle which turned into the barrel through the twisted sprouts of vine, the tenacious curls almost eating the red barrel. Apparently, this one was old enough to be improved by Nell Goldstein herself since there were two chargers, smaller and bigger caliber, and even though the gun had over a century of history, it was the modern system.

Dante smirked and loaded the gun. In the golden rays of sun flashed the name on the side. Joker.

'Hell, yeah,' Dante laughed. 'I'm taking you.' He took aim and fired. The three bullets left the gun almost immediately and tore through the target gracefully. Somewhere between bullet two and three, there was movement inside the workshop.

'Tony?' Dante called, and put the gun back into the case. He could hardly uncoil his fingers from the trigger; even though there was no pain since the drugs were making effect, but his left hand was extremely hard to control. His fingers always threatened to let go and his elbow was close to letting his arm fall down helplessly. Physically, being human sucked big time.

There were steps approaching, but instead of the dark-haired Tony, came a tall fair-haired man in a blue shirt and trousers which just had to be a part of a three-piece suit. He looked more like a bank-worker rather that somebody to come visit Tony.

'Does my friend Tony have any misunderstandings with law?' Dante enquired, pushed back to his Vergil-self by the encounter with another living being. He narrower his eyes with suspicion. Vergil was very observant, and since Dante believed he was sticking to that piece of his brother which he probably had inside him since birth, Dante managed to notice that the man's eyes were too bright green and his smile was not only a welcome one. It was the smile which Vergil so often used himself - the smile of a superior being, of someone toying with you as a prey.

'No, not really.' The man said. It was too obvious he was trying for a friendly impression, but with Dante's Vergil-mode he was getting nowhere., After all, Dante had years to study Vergil himself and learn from him.

'Then, I need to meet Tony without further delay, if you please,' Dante frowned and squeezed his wounded shoulder. Yes, Vergil healed it, but the human body adjusts much slower, so it was making his whole arm numb. He needed his fingers to be able to pull the trigger. It was annoying.

'I'm afraid, that would be impossible,' from the back premises came a girl with ginger red curly hair. She was dressed in a loose green skirt and a matching jacket, most likely with nothing but a bra beneath it, and she was handling herself with more ease than the man, there was an understatement in her every move, making Dante remember Nevan when she was the Queen of the Flooded Opera. It was a woman who had the power and was full of herself.

'Why not?' Dante's frown deepened and he unconsciously put his hand onto the gun, making a small step back. These two people were never mentioned by Tony and now they were going around his place, the place of Goldstein's, like it was their lounge. Dante didn't like them. They were outsiders and they smelled of cinders.

'Tony and the girl, they fled.' the man explained, slowly coming closer. Those two were trying to surround the devil hunter. 'In the end, they are only human.'

'Damn,' Dante noticed a second too late, both leaped towards him, reaching out with their hands that now wore long sharp claws. During that second, he managed to take the gun properly and tried to fire at the blue shirt's chest which suddenly rose right in front of him, but the red-haired banshee sank her fingers into his elbow and pulled down. The shot was dulled by the floor wood, the bullet was wasted.

_"Only two left,"_ a fleeting thought. He clutched the gun even harder.

The banshee let out a howl and sank her teeth into Dante neck. He groaned and tried to get away. The man who was the first to attack was slightly surprised to see the victim fight back and took a whole four seconds to study the hole in the floor. Then the blue shirt's attention was drawn to his partner, who was deprived of Dante's blood in an awkward hand-to-hand fight.

A second to notice the next attack, and despite the neck wound and the dizziness Dante slipped the shaking fingers of his left free hand into the heap of red curly hair and tugged, using the bitch as a shield. Two seconds for the commotion - he got the gun up and aimed at the breast in the green jacket.

He pulled the trigger. The sound was dull again, but this time it went through the girl's chest and made a black moist spot on the jacket. She blinked and fell as soon as the blue shirt let go of her shoulder. The man stared at his partner in disbelief.

_"__I bet you are not used to humans killing you bastards." _Dante's left hand fell down helplessly, it didn't move anymore, frozen with the gun.

He panted, out, in, out, - a hand suddenly on his throat, suffocating him, pushing him up and almost into the air. The blue shirt man drew his free arm aside and put his fingers together so that the nails - or the claws - formed a proper form. Dante was familiar with that - it was going to pierce his chest.

_"Kill or be killed,"_ - Dante's heart took the beat. He groped around the small place on the table that was available to his feeble fingers. A handle. Cold. Metal. _"I am invincible. Only Vergil can kill me."_ He swung the object towards the man's head.

The old cast iron case flew from the table into a semicircle up and cut into the blue shirt's temple with full force. There was a crack, and immediately after came a number of thin nets, like a spider web in the air, then red and nerve tissue blots on the counter, on the floor, on Dante's shirt.

He panted. Out. In. Out. After ten breaths he finally let go of the iron case - his only weapon now that his left hand was stuck with Joker. Dante leaned back onto the counter, put his right hand onto the gun to aim it properly and, like a newbie, standing on his two legs, aiming with two hands, shot the last bullet into the blue shit's head. There was a second; more loud crack, and another red spider net spread from the fair locks of the man on the floor.

'There, bitches.' Dante uncurled his fingers from Joker with his free hand and let the emptied gun fall to the counter. 'I need a smoke.' He turned around, lay his body over the counter and fished a small cigar-case from a lower drawer of a table. To his greatest joy, there was a lighter, so he lit one up, took it to his mouth and inhaled once. 'You have to shoot the head. Can never be sure...'

'Truly,' came a sweet but raucous voice from behind and five long nails appeared slowly from Dante's stomach. He looked down, and let the smoking cigar fall out from his lips.

"This is not the end," it must have been the adrenalin, for suddenly his brain was working very fast. "I am not going down with two stupid demons here when I haven't been able to vergil about so many things."

'How do you feel now, human?' the sweet teasing came from behind him, the girl's second hand on his shoulder. 'You are a handsome man, it would be a pity to just kill you, you know? But humans are so fragile... Maybe you could be my boy's another mask?' in the glass that was put behind the shelves Dante saw the girls' skin distort into ugly yellow uneven scales of an ill shade of yellow, her face turning into a parody of an expression with two huge black eyes of a fly.

"I am not going down, for no one can truly hurt me. I'll survive. For Verge."

Dante suddenly stopped caring. About his body, his life or anything at all. All he wanted was to help Vergil. Everything else didn't matter. So slowly, like nothing was wrong with him, Dante took the cigar from the glass top of the counter and put it's hot end right next to his left thumb. At first he didn't feel anything. But then, slowly, there was an itch that seemed to spread through the veins and grow, until is was something close to pain. As close as the pain could get through the drugs, anyway. Within seconds his hand was not asleep anymore. It didn't feel right yet, but when Dante tried, it moved.

Not listening to some gibberish the fly was spewing at his shoulder, Dante took the five black long nails with his both hands and jerked them out, tearing them off the demon's fingers and all the way through his own flesh till they came out his reddened shirt to fall to the counter.

The fly shrieked but Dante didn't really hear. His path was clear yet again. It was a little hard to fight them when they had their human faces, but now... Without looking, Dante threw his left hand back to grab the monster's head with a heap of red curls and flung her at the counter, holding the fly down by throat. With his other hand he took the longest nail and ripping the expensive green silk, cut a huge gash open between her ribs.

'The core is the manifest of their power,' Dante said, voice even. The nail fell to the floor, useless.

The fingers of his left hand were still slightly numb, so at first Dante felt the wetness, then the squeezy flesh, and only then the heat of the human body. It was somewhere, between the strained muscles, beating.

It was strange. He felt like a puppet master. The ugly unnatural head of the fly, the nice female body with an open wound. Dark red intermixed with black was dripping everywhere. The fly was opening it's mouth but no sound came out. Or he just didn't hear. It was almost dead so all it could do was look at him with those two huge stupid black eyes where Dante saw his reflection in every cell - thousands of calm faces with red dots of the blood and a torn shirt. A perfect shirt, still, the collar ironed...

The cuffs were all messy. Especially the right one.

Dante' hand was stuck half-way to the core: there was not enough space for his hand between the ribs.

'Well, he said.' Creator of humans was a bad puppet master. Who makes the puppets when it is so hard to change parts? Dante was not really changing them, rather breaking them, but still... if he wanted to change a part, why was it so easy with demons and so hard with humans?

He took his hand out of the gash gurgling with blood, messy with torn muscles and opened more of the rib. He then curled his fingers around the white bone and tugged.

The fly convulsed and jerked around. Human bodies were still quite hard to destroy. He then jerked the rib to the right, out of the body, it finally surrendered and broke, sending a firework of red splinters out as well as sounding a whole symphony of cracks and crunches.

The dark hole was open.

'Is this what my hear would be like if it was open?' Dante asked the small room evenly and put his hand into the gash. The cuff-link clanked at another rib, a bright red dot among many others.

The heart was pulsing, it was warm and wet and slippery. Fixed to the body in so many places. Ripping it out seemed too hard. Dante squeezed.

The beating core in his fingers folded, there was a huge plop in silence - he forgot when the fly stopped opening it's mouth - and a huge fountain of fresh red blood sprung to the air, spraying the windows and the walls. It immediately died out, turned claret, like red wine, and was just spilling from the wound slowly.

Life was fading slowly from Dante's fingers. He took his hand out and glanced at the fly.

To his horror, the ugly face of the fly was dissipating, the pleasant features of the human girl taking over again.

_You have never killed a demon like we do_, someone of the demon hunters told him once. Of course, the man was long dead, he was human. But those words, Dante finally understood. _When there is no demon power. When there is no power behind your bullets. When you kill a demon yourself, you either feel good for saving a person, or you have to damn yourself and condemn yourself to the fires of Hell for what you did._

The girl lay there, an innocent expression on her face. She must have looked like this when the demon took over her.

Did Dante feel good for freeing her from the demon? No. He didn't give a damn.

Did he want to damn himself to Hell for killing a human? No. He didn't give a damn.

Saving humans, killing humans. Saving demons, killing demons. He didn't care, really. Not as much as many around him wanted anyway. There was one thing he cared about. It was taking care of Vergil. And first stage required killing as many demons in the city as possible, before going to the Gate and to the Demon world.

_"It was dirty, but that will do for the first try. After all, killing was never for softies."_

First try showed: first, that he is much weaker then before; second, that he needed good ammunition; and third that he could kill demons even being human. So far, Dante was very content with the results.

He turned to the counter to lay Joker to it's case, this time properly. One charger was empty, so Dante hit the glass top of the counter with his fist - the fly's body sank inside slightly, making her seem like a broken redhead doll, - and raked out another six bullets for the gun. This time he took the black ones. Black meant will take out anything like an atom bomb. There was no overdoing it when it was taking down Hell he had in mind.

Dante carefully set Joker back, together with a newly full charger, and closed the lock.

_"Need to take care of the second demon before he wakes up."_

There were the screeching sounds of the tires, the clapping of the car doors and voices came from the street:

'Sir? Freeze! It's the police!'

_"Act fast."_

'Are you hurt? There were shots- oh my!...' the policemen most probably had noticed the red splashes of blood around the room or Dante's messed up attire. Anyway, the demon hunter didn't want to know.

_"There is no way I'll be able to get out of their clutches fast, but __I can take another one down."_

Dante grabbed the case and with a huge stride swung it over his head and into the chest of the blue shirt man. A small explosion followed as the heavy cast iron hammered into the bones and crushed the lungs, the muscles and small pieces of flesh and skin were immediately thrown around.

'Freeze! Don't move!' The police were running to him.

Dante sat down and calmly searched for the heart. As he predicted, it survived and was beating fast. The devil hunter put the case with his hew gun to the side, cleaned the heart which still was attached to two arteries and crushed it in his hands. When it went off, his palms came one against another, making it seem like he was praying and the blood was oozing between his fingers and into the cuffs.

Without thinking, Dante brought his hand to his mouth and licked the blood, from his palm to the end of his forefinger.

_"Will it taste like Vergil's? The demon blood?"_

It didn't. It was the same rich liquid, but had a strong metal taste. Iron and vinegar. The combination was absolutely tasteless. They said that the demon blood tasted the way the demon spent his life. It must have been true. Vergil's tasted of battle and sin.

The lifeless muscles of the dead heart fell to the floor and covered his once white jeans with yet another spray of blood.

_"I should have worn red. How does he manage to keep his blue clothes clean, I wonder. Or maybe, he just sticks to the demon power. Unfortunately, I don't have the luxury anymore." _The case with Joker in his left hand, Dante stood up.

New cars were arriving, one white with a red cross. The police were aiming at him, about six people. Yet now seeing all the blood and the two bodies they were afraid to fire or come closer.

Dante threw his hair back with a habitual gesture, not minding the blood at all, and snatched the White Gloom from the father part of the counter that hadn't been destroyed.

He closed his eyes for a second and he could almost see like the fresh crimson fleurs-de-lis opened their tender petals all around the room. It was still a smell that Vergil had so often, just a different one from the blue one. The blue ones grew in calm, homey places of rest. Whilst the crimson ones were like a disease, they spread all over the streets and cities, they were the trail that Vergil usually left behind. When one appeared usually many more followed. Flowers of flesh and death.

Dante opened his eyes. The wounds on his stomach started to itch. The drugs could get him only so far. He was bleeding heavily.

_"__I should wear red. At least, it looks less pathetic. Well, I'll just pretend there is no my blood in these stains."_

The case with Joker in one hand, White Gloom in another, Dante kicked the door of the 45. Caliber Warks open and walked into the cool air of early evening.

A light prick at his chest, and the devil hunter was falling down by the power of some medical mix that was in a small injection he was shot with. Those humans - they didn't even dare approach him.

He was going down standing, never put to his knees. Vergil would have been proud of his first battle.

**...endo chap 27****...**

Okay. So _ it is BIG. *looking for her thanks.* Dante ROX. He just does and I feel it. _

I know its total fail but here: **ANSWERS TO ALL LAST REVIEWS**

**(since may and you didn't just see that. No you didn't).**

**Kei Katsuki **heya there! It was a good e-mail this time was it? I know im a o total whore for replying now to the may review… oh whell. I'll have to pay with chappies))) ethan will be a good girl, promise ^_^

**KiKa**thx thx big time 4 ur patience) I know you personally and some other people Who I Know Anyway have waited really long! But well unfortunately my dante and vergil cant by me food flat and pc) Hope you enjoyed it I promise to try to write as soon as I get some inspiration and time. Its still difficult, but I will keep it going, even if it takes long and goes painfully slow((( good thing come in small portions don't they T_T

**BoQuinTao**you were too positive my dear, Vergil lasted two minutes. Cause dante's puppy eyes are NULEAR BOMB. XD actually I was going with the stalk-dnc idea till I got to play…

…YEAH I played the damn ALICE MADNESS RETURNS if you haven't noticed it so far and it fucked my brain. So yeah – blood, flesh, vorpal blade and Kill, Kill, KILL. *Ethan berserk mode* It SCREWED me ttly.

**Fre**Thanks for writing,it a nice lil lol-y one-liner that had me laughing for a long time. No less pleasant anyway, so yeah, and welcome to the fic then!

**Hidan-Hime13 **don't worry I'll whine and shout how I want the reviews, but as long as get them the story is bound to have an end. And a happy one cause I'm a total sap ^_^

**JJKMagic **Hello and welcome to the fic! You receive my usual welcome cookie! Well, thanks a lot for leaving the review (cause lotsa lazy biches and bastards just don't let them have no sex for the rest of their lives)! You know, the statement of the craziest chapter had me dwelling on which is the most messed up for hours. I still haven't which was it? (I think the maddest is the sex-with-femdante and vergils-in-the-head-discussion.)

**Alyssa****Abyss** Ой да не волнуйся) все пропустили) я по этому поводу долго ругалась потом плюнула)) Грац меня с дипломом бакалавра питерского универа ^_^ поэтому нифига не было обнов) терь будет больше! Пысы принимаю кинк-заказы на вставки в фик _ *меня никто не видел* свои кажется уже просто все написала 0_0 \\глава-многабукаф, пло)) *ржетЪ*\\

**Coming soon****: Vergil goes to rescue, behold the demon world. Nevan pays Vergil for the shoes. Payback is a bitch =P**

Yes I want my ten reviews! Yes I know you are there assholes cause I have statistics! Grrr!

Feed me faster, get faster updates ^_^

Ethan.


	28. Two in distress, p2: Unbelieved

...

**Babbling**

...

**Warnings:** blood and violence and Ewww stuff. The usual, that is.

**HalfBetad**

**This Chap is dedicated to Niveus-Umbra sorely, at least the nice part of it is. All others – go fuck yourselves =_=**

**To the eternal glory of Nimlinven and Tora-Katana**

'Dialogue' "_Thoughts"_

_Sound:_ **Shinedown: Her name is Alice (for fluff people), Kesha: Disgusting (for beatchez)**

...

**Chap 28**

**Two in distress**

**Part 02\ Unbelieved**

**or**

**\in which the reader, following the subtle techniques of the previous chapters, gets the first results on the way, as the title of this manual says 'To turn your partner into a masochist uke'. Typical drawbacks included for the reader's better understanding of the subject.\**

Dante winced, woken up by a gentle brush of a strong hand, which judging by the size and sure movement must have belonged to a man, but the feel of the skin was strangely tender and soft. It caressed him again, along his left cheek, with the back of the knuckles, until all the fingers slid along the features of his face and the short polished nails underlined his chin. The devil hunter smirked, pleased with the sensation, and opened his eyes lazily.

He was apparently in his bedroom, moreover in his bed; spread over the tangled white cotton sheets in nothing but his leather pants, like he had laid, instantly falling asleep so many times after the long days of demon-slaying.

Next to him was Vergil, sitting on the edge of the bed, a light-poisonous, medium-full-of-himself, and very heavily loaded with mischief tiny smile on his thin pale lips. He had only the pants and the vest on, so Dante assumed that his older brother had come back late at night or only early in the morning – he couldn't care less to find out which – then must have left his shoes in the lobby and shed his cloak on one of the black leather chairs at the wall – Dante couldn't care less to look and check – and now had some bloody stupid – oh, a very witty one, of course, - plan to spoil Dante's morning, or whatever time of the day it was, for that matter.

'Hey,' Vergil said as hello and put his hand over his younger twin's chest. The devil hunter noticed, with a distant feeling of alarm, that his hands were cuffed by some kick-ass metal cuffs, heavy as hell and pretty tight, fixed to the damn bed head. "_Should I start sleeping on a couch instead, maybe?"_

'Hey, wazzup with the bondage?' Dante greeted in return and clanked his cuffs for emphasis.

'You asked, remember?' Vergil's face darkened – "_Do I freaking see worry of all things on my bloody brother's face?" _ – and the older Sparda pushed a stray strand of white hair out of Dante's face, cool fingers staying in his locks for some moments, then falling down. 'If you change your mind we can go to the hospital.'

Dante felt an uneasy chill and looked down. "_Oh, right."_ There were five finger-thick black metal dowels in his stomach. "_The hooks._ _I went to the fucking Hell. The hooks, aha…"_

'You don't want me to do it anymore?' Vergil asked. It sounded low, intimate and disappointed.

'No, no, it's better if it's you than anybody else. Just, just do it.' Dante was wavering, but he truly wanted the damn things out of him as soon as possible, and his brother – Vergil could do it. Inflicting pain was almost his second nature. It was painful when Vergil was far away. And it was even worse than painful when he was near. Which made his damn brother a fucking genius with a natural talent to it.

The older Sparda nodded and his slender fingers circled the first hook, taking a firm hold of it. Red, like boiling blood, spring through the black metal where he touched it, brightened and got hotter and burned into flame-yellow and fever-white.

'Aaaahrggh-!…' Dante shrieked, louder as momentarily from the wound where the flaming hook was stuck, a web of fire needles sprung like a tree, crushing his insides like a thresher and spiking through his entire being the same way blood pulsed through his veins. Like in a kaleidoscope, the pain web prints in Dante's body rushed over him faster and faster, burning through his nerves, as if racing to be the first one to reach to his heart and to the very tips of his fingers and toes. The back and crimson bubbles in the wound hissed and popped up. It was supposed to smell of burned flesh, but smelled of winter Sunday morning. Cool and fresh and… pine trees.

'Take your bloody hands off me, fucker!' Dante roared and jerked at the bonds over his wrists, wriggled away from his twin, almost kicked Vergil off the bed. As soon as the pale fingers of the katana-master were not touching the hellish metal anymore, the pain went away, so peacefully and easily it made hard to believe it was ever there.

The older Sparda tidied his clothes, closed his eyes, getting his thoughts together, and concluded distantly: 'Since I can be of no assistance here and there is nothing for me to do, I shall call a doctor. I will inform you of his arrival; until then rest here.' He turned gracefully and walked to the door, letting the mechanical movements hide his feelings.

'Akh… Ah… Vergil, akh, fuck…' Dante gasped for air, his head buried in a pillow. Through his disheveled hair he saw two bare feet cross the threshold. 'Verge! I don't need a doctor, kay? Come back this instant!' the devil hunter shouted at the top of his lungs, cocking his head up; secretly hoping for his older brother to temporary go deaf after that so that Vergil could finally feel the meaning of his words. Then he let his head fall back and mumbled angrily: 'Urrgh, I am so killing you later for the freaking nitpicking, asshole…'

'There is a limit,' came from the door the intentionally calm voice, of the I-am-feeling-something-but-am-not-supposed-to-show type, 'a limit, I repeat myself, to everything in this world, no matter how pathetic or rhetoric it sounds. And my own patience and my own will also have areas where that limit can be easily reached. And I am bloody at that damn edge and very much on edge, and I do not feel very capable of disabling you, my own idiotic brother, in a miserable attempt to cure you by wrecking your body even more instead of handing you in to the fucking doctors.'

'Verge,' Dante pleaded, using his tied-up wrists to pull his body up on the pillows. 'I am afraid.' It was true, and it wiped any shadows of offence or anger that might have crippled Vergil. 'If it's not you, I am scared out of my guts, so please… don't go,' the devil hunter said in a whisper.

The older Sparda sat at Dante's side and decided for silence over pointless words. He grabbed the closest hook with a firm grip and pulled, tearing the flesh and skin.

Dante was drowning back in the needle-maze, throwing his head back, eyes open wide, full of tears. The lilies on the walls, the old faded patterns on the silk, brightened up with the kaleidoscope of moans and screams and stuffed swearing. Their stems tore through the fabric, sprung from the walls, and the huge buds spiraled open, each five shimmering azure petals with the glitter of the pollen. The smell of lilies - and someone, - the intangible thread, was making him eat up all the air in the room just to catch a glimpse of it, the shreds of the aroma too small, vanishing, slipping away.

The lilies, like a bindweed, grew higher and covered more and more of the wall until there was just a huge bush in the heart of which tens of the flowers were going off in the fireworks of blue, incandesced, exploded in lighter blue, intensive cyan and finally, ringing with power and pain and sensory overload they shuddered to be ripped apart by blinding white.

Someone was screaming, Dante noted. A familiar voice. Yet Vergil was right here, pale face, white hair, hands in Bordeaux. He must have spilled it from the bottle?

Dante gulped down some air. He was tired somehow, as if he had talked and talked for hours, even his neck hurt, so he shut his lips tight. The screams stopped.

'Verge,' the devil hunter croaked, slowly regaining his surroundings.

'I am done,' the older Sparda's voice broke through the deafness, a distant comment. The fifth hook fell to the parquet floor, hissing and cooling down, letting out a thin smoke. 'I'll be on my way, then.'

'Verge, stay, please,' Dante coughed out with no voice and tried to catch the hand of Vergil while his older twin was standing up. To his surprise, the devil hunter found his left hand free, chins torn, so he caught and squeezed the trembling slick fingers. 'Don't go.' For some reason, he knew for sure that if he let his brother leave that room again, he would never see Vergil again, so he stuck to every possible way of stopping the older Sparda.

'The only thing I bring you is...' Looking at the window, Vergil sighed.

'I know,' the devil hunter nodded. The hollows in his stomach were eating him alive. Burning him inside out. Gobbling and gurgling with dark sticky liquid and small pieces of solidifying flesh.

'And since my work here is finished, I have to go.'

'Verge…' "_Anything, just have to think of something…"_

'Good b-'

'Wait!' Dante pulled his brother onto the bed and they fell down awkwardly together.

Vergil's soft hair tickling his cheek, his older brother's shoulder so close that the leather of dark blue vest t was almost against his lips. Dante clutched at the older twin's back nervously, pushing Vergil's body further onto his own and inhaled sharply: the intoxicating subtle fragrance that he longed for so much lifted its thin veil from Vergil's skin. The soft, untainted and unbroken skin with no tan. A true warrior would not let the opponent harm his body, killing the opponent swiftly and elegantly, he said.

A sure hand snaked under the devil hunter's neck and fingers took hold of his hair. The tense muscles in Dante's embrace relaxed and the slick body settled conveniently over him. The eyes could fool Dante, showing mirages, not his real brother; but right now all Dante knew were those rare signs of having Vergil nearby, of **having** Vergil, at least as much of him as Dante could ever grasp: the feel of that skin, the crispy frills of the fresh smell with the slight underflow of leather and the familiar muscles on his twin's back – it was making him drunk and crazy and painfully hard.

Dante smirked at the unintended pun into the crook of his brother's neck. Both. He was both in very hard pain and painfully hard. It was turning into a bad habit around Vergil.

'Whatever, I'll keep you busy so that you stay. Stab them in.'

...

It was dark. He must have fainted from the pain. Dante wondered absent-mindedly how many hours he had managed to stay awake. Would Vergil be still there, when he woke up?

His wrists hurt, must have been the chafes from the cuffs. Vergil would be there.

Like a shiver through darkness snaked the thin hands of fog, a hazy smoke, slowly circling around him, its touch cool. It could be calming, this chill, but for the smell that was almost intangible, yet certainly everywhere, the smell of clorine.

Dante winced. His own body seemed like an alien object now, unfamiliar and disobedient. He could hardly feel his limbs and when he tried to move, nothing happened. His whole body was enveloped with darkness, like with a lead blanket, tying his limbs down. Oh, his hands were now down, it must have been not the cuffs, but Vergil holding him, that bastard.

'Hey there,' came a coarse tired male voice from beside him, 'you awake yet?'

"_Who the fuck is that?"_ Dante wanted to turn and look, but his body denied him. "_What is he doing here? It's my bedroom!"_

'Come on, I didn't wait here in vain, wake up.' The voice broke, as if to take a smoke, then continued, and the smell of cheap cigarettes came from the left side. 'They said you wouldn't be even alive, but here you are. Shit, I don't think I ever saw anything scarier than that. You know, I still can't decide, which was the creepiest, the massacre that you started or that fucking operation.' There was another break, and another quiet puff and the nicotine in the air. 'We brought you to the hospital. Stupid humanity, if you asked me, I think you should have died right there on the spot. Anyway, they brought you to the hospital and started to treat the wounds immediately. I am not sure, medicine isn't my, you know, strong side, they said something about the spine and the nerves, so they wanted you conscious. That is some real hard shit, I know. I had to burn a hole from a bullet on my own shoulder once. But they freaking stitched up your insides right on the table.' The heavy feeing of immobility was slowly shifting from Dante, as if the words of the coarse voice were stripping it off him, one word one layer. 'For the first minute you were screaming like a madman… well, you must be mad anyway to kill people with your bare hands, but you get the idea, and then – fuck, I don't think I will be sleeping soundly tonight – you just opened your eyes, murmured something about not letting your friend go, then about keeping somebody busy and you freaking stilled. I mean, no anesthesia and five holes in your stomach, needles and scalpels inside, sticking your torn guts together and cleaning it with some chemical stuff, and you just lay there, lips closed, eyes wide open. Not even blinking, almost relaxed. I mean, you were conscious, 'cause the docs were tracking your brain activity and they said you felt it all. How fucking insane you have to be to disregard all that?'

Everything made sense now. Surely, the hooks after Hell were in his chest, Dante remembered now. It was just a ghost of Vergil that his own mind created to save him. The devil hunter halted and dwelled on the idea. "_I created Vergil to save myself? No. All Vergil does is destroy me, not save, his image said so itself. I am real bad at self-digging, but feels like this one needs to be solved. Then why did I remember him?"_

'Come on, I can almost hear you thinking your twisted thoughts,' the voice coughed and sighed.

"_Right, Vergil is gone now. All I wanted was get a new gun, and slay some demons… Strictly speaking I got both, but seems like I am confined in here. This way I can't get to the Gate, even though I made the decision that nothing would stop me… right! That is why Vergil was in the vision. He is the only __**truly**__ painful thing."_

'No one can ever hurt me,' Dante wheezed and cough-laughed out a breath of air.

'Fuck,' the voice responded immediately, apparently surprised, and the devil hunter concentrated every single bit of his will to crook his dry lips, edges going up unevenly into a twisted snicker. 'You do not seem very invincible to me, though.'

'Hah. I said I feel no pain. Yet of course you can destroy my physical form.' Dante longed to stretch his body, he had to move. So for starters the devil hunter cracked one eye open.

He was in a small square room, plain grey walls, nothing but a tired by the leash of the wire golden firefly of the bulb, the only dim source of light; his bunk with a thin blanket and a set of rather strong buff leather cuffs, securely tied on his wrists and ankles; and a very tired man at the side of the bunk.

The detective, and he had to be, by that worn-out silver badge at his waist, was straddling a metal hospital chair, elbows resting on the back of it, a thin half-burnt cigarette in his tanned fingers.

"_Nothing like Vergil's._ _His slim thin fingers. Pale skin."_

The detective was a blonde, his short hair a mess. He had a light jonquil shirt on, no tie and his gallows were the same auburn colour as his pants. And the same colour as the holsters around his chest, even though there were no guns.

"_Vergil wouldn't like yellows. Nope. But he might be fun in gallows."_

'If you feel no pain,' the detective took another smoke and exhaled it slowly towards the ceiling, 'why did you scream the first minute?'

'Oh, that,' Dante resettled his shoulders and head on the thin hospital pillow. 'I thought it was him.'

'Him?' the man raised his eyebrows. 'Who and where is your Clyde, Bonny?' there was a quiet cracked laugh.

'Tch,' the devil hunter chuckled. 'Do not worry. He is not in this world anymore.'

'You killed him too?' the detective cocked his head to the side and narrowed his hazel eyes.

'No,' Dante made a face. 'I wouldn't kill my own brother. I mean, I wouldn't even if it would have saved the whole world.'

'So you have a brother, then.'

'Why do you care? To you people the case should seem closed. What are you doing here anyway?' Dante sneaked a peek at the door, the heavy metal door with a small square window in the middle of its upper part.

'I was dying of boredom here, waiting to ask you a couple of questions.' The detective put out the small bud of the cigarette by just wiping it over the concrete wall. 'No, don't misunderstand, I hold no doubt about you killing the two young people in the shop, those two bodies have told the medics everything. Yet I have that bad habit of verifying everything myself; and for as long as I have worked with psychos and maniacs, I know there is always a reason for every single perverted shit they have done. Not every one of them spills it, but there is always a reason – an old offence, a trauma, a twist of fate or whatever. So I am here to ask you that single stupid question, why? Why did you do that?'

'Let's see,' Dante looked at the ceiling, in thought. 'I am a half-demon by birth, so right now I hunt the lower demons who dare sneak into the Human world. So those two were possessed. In normal circumstances they would have died in a splash of blood, but I was rid of my demon heritage, so I do not have the power to kill the demons off cleanly anymore. That's why the two young people reversed to their human selves after death.'

'Indeed.' The detective stared at Dante, his gaze blank. Then he slowly rose and left the room without looking back. As he closed the door and his yellowish silhouette disappeared in the yellow square of the window, Dante saw two nurses pass with a patient between them on their way along the corridor.

They passed together, like two old friends would walk along an arcade of boutiques on a Sunday noon, no talks but for rare subtle comments, heads up and purses close, a dog running with its short legs stupidly in the middle. Except for these two had white uniforms and instead of the dog was an indifferent patient, stuck between the two sticks of their bodies. The patient was some poor fellow of about forty years old, in a white straitjacket, sleeves tied loosely across his neck so that they didn't get dirty while being dragged by the floor. He had a very pale face, hair shaved down and there were two lines of bandage across his skull, but even so the small red dots of where the drill penetrated could be easily seen. As he walked, the patient paid no attention to his surroundings, didn't even notice the detective. He just winked several times, his stare vacant, and half-opened his dry lips, letting out a thin line of uncontrollable drool.

Dante jerked at the cuffs, but they didn't tear, the bunk didn't even move from all his efforts.

_"Verge..."_ there was suddenly a low whisper in Vergil's mind. And then, clear as if they were said right to his ear, came Dante's words: _"Verge… come back. ...save me, brother. __Take_ _me away from here. Please?"_

...

Vergil's heart ached at the timid voice in his mind, but he smiled tenderly at the light pull in his chest. It was the pull towards Dante, Dante calling to him, and the older Sparda followed without thinking twice. His heels crushed some glass splinters on the way and in a light breeze of the shredded old yellow pages along the wrecked lobby of the Devil Never Cry he was gone.

'Bitch!' Nevan spat after him, sitting in the middle of the destroyed agency, holding two broken shoes close to her chest. 'I am not giving Dante to you, you bastard!'

...

Detective Steeve Larson finished his tenth cigarette and stared into the window. There were no windows on the fifth floor underground, of course, yet in the hall there was one that had an aquarium. He wondered why, since the murderers who finished their lives here would never have any visitors. Not even the medical students could come to this level of the hospital, only the FBI and the stupid detectives like himself, with no family and no other way to spend the time except for talking to mad killers. Demons, huh? And he sounded so logical at first. However, don't they all in the beginning?

The detective threw the cigarette butt to it's relatives in the glass ashtray and pushed the 'up' button on the elevator. It turned innocently green. With a low ring the metal doors opened and let Steeve Larson in. He leaned onto the back wall of the elevator and watched the doors close, the line between them thin, finally cutting him off the white walls, the white uniforms of the nurses and the white straightjackets. Evening was nearing and it had been a long day.

The elevator took the detective up, back to the familiar world. When the doors opened he saw the reception on the first floor, the flowers in the pots, the green furniture in the waiting hall, the front glass doors. Everything seemed so ordinary that it was hard to believe there was an underground like the one he had just seen.

The detective shrugged off the ugly feeling of disgust and headed towards the gentle afternoon sunlight.

There was an azure low convertible parked outside. A very seductive redhead sat at the driver's seat, dressed in a purple cocktail dress. Near her stood a tall man, ash blond short hair and long blue coat. He was giving her some dark long item. The redhead babe pursed her lips in annoyance. Then, just as the detective reached the automated doors, the man turned around, pushed his too-white hair back with a swift gesture of his right hand and walked past Steeve Larson into the hospital.

Every detail of that moment burned into detective Larson's memory. The way the tall man closed his eyes for a second, enjoying the sunlight, the way he walked into the hospital, self-assured and nonchalant, his gait light and the folds of the blue coat flapping like wings. He didn't have anything, that man, his hands in his pockets. Not a bag, not a gun, not a thing, yet he held the unmistakable aura, the same one professional killers have, or the same that have the people of power. The detective's eyes followed the stranger involuntarily.

The guards didn't dare to stop the man, and he went in and rested his elbows onto the counter, effectively bending his lean figure and showing his long slender legs to the nurses.

When the bright azure eyes half-closed and the thin line of the lips parted to pronounce the words he was too far to hear, the detective realized what was wrong. The man had the same face as the mad murderer from that day. Except this one had his hair combed back.

"_Shit,"_ Steeve Larson ran back into the lobby right in time to hear him say:

'I am here to see my brother.'

The nurse blinked and looked at the detective for help.

'Who exactly do you need to see?' Steeve Larson panted, leaning onto the counter for support. From the corner of his eye he checked the two policemen at the elevator. They were there, looking at the visitor with suspicion.

'My brother. I thought you got the idea from the first glance at the doors.' The man smirked poisonously and touched lightly the blue scarf that was tied around his neck and tucked neatly into his vest.

'Well, maybe. But your brother is not mentally stable, you see,' the detective stammered, distressed that he had been so easily spotted earlier.

'Oh, that. He must have done something silly again. He had always been slightly mad,' the man laughed to himself, pushed off the counter and headed to the metal elevator doors. 'Are you coming, detective?'

'You can't visit him now, he is a suspect in a double-murder case, and apparently guilty.' Steeve Larson struggled to regain his self-esteem and his dignity, but in the face of the white-haired man everybody seemed like stupid school children. The case, the police, it all seemed like kid's games and only he in his long tailed coat knew the reality behind all that. "_He must know something."_

'I'm here to see him. I didn't ever mention talking or any of the sorts, I just came to see him with my own eyes, nothing more. What harm can there be?' the man came up to the two policemen who unleashed their guns and pointed them at his chest, which only brought a new feat of cold laughter from the man and didn't stop the man from pushing the 'down' button. It turned alarmingly red.

The detective shuddered as the ugly feeling of uneasiness kicked back in at the thought of going back to the underground floors, yet when he saw the metal doors of the elevator open their cold sleazy trap, he went in and with a dismissive gesture of his hand the two unwilling guns lowered and let the white-haired man in as well.

'Who are you?' the detective asked when the elevator was pulling them to the under world.

'Call me Gilver', the man snickered and closed his eyes, as if hearing a melody, but there was silence.

In fact Vergil was listening to the single voice in his mind, that was becoming louder and louder with every step he made, the constant mutter, just like a prayer, the familiar voice that was repeating his name over and over. He was used to hearing Dante call out to him, in anger, in fear, in irritation, but oh so rarely could he hear the pleading, Dante calling out just to call him, asking him to come. So Vergil was basking in the sweet low murmur, in the sounds of his own name.

The older Sparda paid no attention to the tired detective who followed him, Vergil was following the voice. The elevator let him out on the fifth floor underground and he just walked to Dante, without noticing the nurses or the aquarium, through the labyrinth of the long narrow corridors, along the rows of similar cell doors, past the screams in the operation rooms, past the blood stains on the snow white walls.

At the end of another corridor there was a dead end with a door. The white pain peeling off, a low metal door with a small square window. Dante was there.

Steeve Larson panted and bent down to catch his breath, palms on his knees. The bastard was one hell of a walker, to rush all the way through. And this Gilver was a shadowy figure for sure, otherwise he wouldn't know the way around. Had he been here before?

"_Verge…"_

Beat.

"_Verge…"_

The older Sparda slowly approached the door. He could feel his brother's heartbeat echoing in his every cell.

Beat.

"_Verge…"_

Beat.

"_Verge…"_

Beat.

Dante was there. Vergil stood in front of the door and slowly opened his eyes, taking the first glance into the window from under his lashes.

It was an empty room, lit up by a single bulb from the ceiling. The bunk was in the right corner. Dante must have let the thin blanket slip down to the floor in the attempt to free himself. Now he was lying obediently, bare chest rising quickly after another feat to tear off the cuffs on his wrists and ankles. The white jeans Dante was wearing were half coloured red by blood and there were bandages across his stomach.

"_The doctors took care of him…"_ Vergil thought with a sense of relief.

"_Verge…" _ Dante's voice in his chest called. The older Sparda let his lips crook into a self-satisfied smile. He lifted his hand and touched the yellow glass with a twisted feeling of care.

He remembered now, more clearly than ever, that deep blue night that was one of the darkest times in his life. It was one of the things Dante didn't know about, things Vergil was afraid to tell his brother even when they were together as children. It was the night when he was caught with a rope and knife straddling the sleeping Dante.

Before, he was always feeling insecure about the things he owed. They tended to disappear, or break, or get lost. And deep inside him, Vergil was always afraid that the most important things in his life would once do the same – disappear. That evening the idea came to him.

He found the rope in the old cupboard in the old storeroom on the ground floor of their house. The rope didn't seem old, but just to be sure he spent half an hour sitting there in the dark, checking every inch of it.

Dinner came and passed eventless. It was time to go to bed, and he left when their mother told him to. Dante was stubborn and by arguing won a whole hour in the sitting room. Vergil was irritated, yet he went into his room, undressed, put on his sleeping silk pajama pants and tied the strings. He lay onto the bed and stared into the white ceiling.

That was the longest hour he could remember. He stayed motionless in the dark room, his mind always coming back to the rope that was stuck into the bottom drawer of his desk. What would Dante say? It had to be perfect. He had never before worked up the resolution to tell his brother how he felt, so it had to be perfect.

Finally the steps of their parents lead towards their bedroom and Dante ran for bathroom to wash his face. When Vergil heard the water running he stood up from the bed, took out the rope and walked to the kitchen, barefoot. He wished he could have an old dagger for the occasion, but stealing one from father's study was hard, so he had to settle for a kitchen knife. He took a simple one, that wouldn't really remind him of food. A simple blade with an ivory handle. Vergil clutched the knife and walked back.

On the staircase he waited for Dante to leave the bathroom and go to bed, then sneaked to the closed door to his brother's room and leaned over it. Vergil had to wait till his younger twin fell asleep, so he patiently stayed in the corridor, insensitive to the cold and the flow of time, till all the noise ceased and he could feel Dante's slow breath and his heartbeat.

Vergil walked into the room, his steps light. He crouched onto his brother's bed, hooked his leg over the sleeping Dante and straddled his sleeping twin.

Dante was the same as always, white hair a mess, tangled in the sheets and the blanket. Vergil put the knife down and put his twin's wrists together, then tied them carefully, two times around and two times between the hands. Then he made a knot, the one that becomes tighter the harder you pull at it.

'There,' he said and took the knife in his hand. His plan was to wake Dante up and say it, how he was afraid to lose everything he had, how he wanted to be sure, how he wanted to know Dante would always stay together with him. What Vergil wanted was for his twin to swear by blood that they would always be together.

'Dante,' he called, and his voice trembled with emotion. It was going to be their secret, only belonging to the two of them. Dante didn't wake up. Instead, the door opened and with a gasp their mother let go of the candle in her hand.

The rest of the night was smeared in Vergil's memory into a bleak painting of fear, regret and self-hate.

Dante was there, in the cell of the hospital. But the feeling was the same. The puff leather cuffs that held his wrists and calves were exactly the rope Vergil wanted them to be. And absolutely the same was how the older Sparda wanted his brother to wake up and promise him to stay together.

For a moment Vergil wanted to go inside the cell, straddle his twin and try to fix his previous failure. But then, when the voice in his chest once again called to him, when he could almost feel his brother's lips say: "_Verge…"_ the older Sparda realized that the promise wouldn't suffice anymore.

No matter how much he enjoyed tying Dante up, no matter how he felt when his twin returned from Hell and he had to cuff Dante to the bed head, no matter how appealing Dante might have looked now, Vergil realized it was not enough.

Vergil didn't just want to have Dante anymore. No rope of metal cuffs could make Dante stay by his side. It was only those invisible bonds that Vergil was so bad at, that could make his younger twin long for him and come back to his side. He wanted Dante to want him back.

When everything seemed hopeless, Dante was there, calling for no one but Vergil. It was maddeningly arousing.

The older Sparda took a step back and turned around. He saw that the detective was almost shouting now to get his attention. Ignoring all the questions and accusations he simply asked;

'Where can I get some whiskey?'

The detective was so shocked that answered with a plain 'Follow me,' and they silently walked back, leaving the small door with the paint peeling off behind.

Vergil convinced himself that in the whole building he was the only one who could hurt his brother, that there was no immediate need to save Dante. But in reality, the voice in his chest calling to him with every heartbeat was such a rare sign of someone needing him that Vergil didn't want to lose it. So the older Sparda walked away, slightly shocked at the development in his twisted desires and too indulged in the guilty pleasure that Dante's voice brought him to be able to break away from it.

...

At some point Dante's voice in Vergil's mind grew weaker and finally disappeared, leaving only the steady pulse in his chest that indicated their connection. The older Sparda smiled to himself and assumed that his twin had finally fallen asleep.

The devil hunter indeed was sleeping, his body overworked by the wounds, the operation and his futile attempts to get free.

Time was spilling through his fingers in a lonely black veil.

Dante winced, woken up by a gentle brush of a strong hand, but the feel of the skin was strangely rough. Had those fingers held the sword for too long? It caressed him again, along his left cheek, until all the fingers slid along the features of his face and underlined his chin. The devil hunter smirked, pleased with the sensation.

"_Vergil must have come," _he thought in the haze of his sleep and as if answering his suggestion, the hands palmed his cheeks, then slid along the lines of his neck and stroke his naked chest. Those hands were too big to belong to a woman, too fast to belong to a human. Dante smiled as they pried open the button on his blood-dirtied – he remembered – jeans and pulled the zipper down.

"_You have a bad habit of jumping people first thing in the morning, don't you?"_ the devil hunter joked to himself, remembering his bewilderment when Vergil had woken him up with his hands that morning.

Dante was confused enough in the relationship with his older twin, but what happened earlier during the day exhausted him and he would have allowed Vergil to do whatever he wanted - just to have him back. And allow it he did: the hands confidently took out his half-hard member and stroke it, the rough movement against the tender skin turning into razor-sharp flashes of pleasure.

"_You bastard,"_ Dante almost laughed, "_So full of himself._ _You must have left all the cuffs on me to be so annoyingly smug and to just try to jerk me off first thing when I wake up. You always had control issues, I know, but I think I'll have to do something about it. Hm…"_

The hand stroke him leisurely, yet just knowing it was Vergil, so close, again, finally, had Dante fully erect in no time. He shrugged his shoulders – the most he could do to stretch his body with his wrists and calves fixed - and opened his eyes lazily. The time froze in that instant and stood still, crystal clear.

There were dark purple lips painted on a long pale face. To the left and to the right from those lips were three thin oily whiskers and the nose above was a small grey dot with two holes for inhaling. Dante could see the wrinkles on the pale skin around small round solid back eyes that stared at him without blinking. From the forehead up there was grey thin hair, tied in a knot at the top of the head, and right next to it was a white hat with a cross that had lost its colour from too much bleach and almost disappeared into light pinkish instead of rich red that it once was.

It was sitting on his left side, the bony figure with flabby breasts, in the half-human form. From short sleeves of the small white nurse dress the slim hand was reaching out to Dante's cock, it's inside white like linen and the other side covered in thick short grey fir. The fingers on him were rough as the rest of the rat's skin and had long nails.

As the time started to move, Dante wanted to run, to push the rat away; and somewhere to the right the leather of the cuff snapped open with a sudden flap and the nurse's body swung to floor under the force of the hit that the devil hunter didn't know he was aiming at its chest. For an instant a curt splash of black and red blossomed into the fresh and live petals of a fleur-de-lis and fell down in lifeless spots – to the floor, to the grey concrete wall, to the blanket.

The suddenly stiff fingers were still clutching at the devil hunter's flesh. Dante gasped and with his bloodied right hand jerked them off his shaft. The nurse's arm slid from the bed to the floor and disappeared from his sight.

Shaking in disgust, Dante snatched the corner of the thin blanket and wiped his hand in a hurry, ridding his cold skin of the sticky blackening substance; then, trembling, he cleaned his cock one, two, three times as if the white cotton could clean away the lingering feeling of the touch. He tugged himself into his jeans, with another unintentional shudder.

The devil hunter somehow undid the buckles on his other cuffs, threw the dirtied blanket off the bed and folded himself up sitting on the pillow, hugging his shaking knees. When Dante realized he almost accidentally bit his lips he knew the lips were trembling as well. Tears were welling up.

'Vergil is not coming,' Dante told himself in a coarse whisper, and upon hearing it he finally acknowledged the fact. The tears spilled and ran down his cheeks onto his knees – onto the white-red fabric of the jeans.

'He is not coming,' he repeated with chapped dry lips, and the salty tears watered them.

"_I have always wanted to say goodbye to him properly and stay, awaiting for his return. I thought I would ease the agony of waiting. But today… I was just fooling myself. I couldn't stand the separation, couldn't take it, I was not ready to let him go, wanted to see him… My mind played tricks on me, but all I really ever cared for was to get to where he is. And now I am trapped here, paying for turning away from the truth and from myself, human and fragile, afraid of everything the world throws at me. I am afraid of a stray bullet, afraid of the shards of glass, of the metal chair and of the demons around. There are thousands of things that could kill me and end everything in a moment, and then I would never see him again. Why didn't I stay at home, waiting for him? Now I am trapped, powerless and miserable, hoping for him to come save me. But he, he is gone. And he is not coming."_

Dante stopped believing.

...

They were sitting on two identical white leather chairs, divided by a small white table in a small white room. The white-haired man was drinking the shitty coffee from an old machine with a face he would have had drinking the first-rate coffee in his cabinet in his private mansion somewhere in France, legs elegantly crossed, shoulders relaxed, eyeing leisurely the stand with the lobotomy drills.

'You are creeping the shit outta me,' detective Steeve Larson couldn't stand the silence any longer.

'I know.' The man took a gulp from his white cup and put it onto the table. The finger-less gloves on him were not worn out but must have been custom-made to perfectly fit his large but exquisite hands. There was a bored look he gave the detective. 'I do that to people.'

And something happened.

Detective Steeve Larson knew it by a sudden glow in the man's eyes and by how his body tensed instantly, turning into a perfectly offensive weapon.

Vergil knew it by a small snap inside his chest with which the thread that bound him to Dante was cut and the pulse he felt before died out.

The older Sparda stood up and strode to the door.

'You can follow but I will kill you if you are in the way,' he dropped to the detective and rushed along the corridors, disappearing from the detective in a sweep of his blue cloak fold-wings.

He worried. Dante went silent, which meant, the older Sparda knew, Dante either gave up – which was so very not like him – or decided to do something. His younger twin wouldn't die so easily and wouldn't give up, so naturally there wasn't anything wrong, yet… Vergil was worried.

Or maybe, he just needed to see him.

...

His toes were cold without the blanket, his shoulders were cold without the clothes, his cheeks were cold from the tears, his heart was cold without Vergil.

"_I am moping…."_ Dante sighed.

His glance wandered to the corner of the white nurse dress on the floor, and his whole body convulsed yet again. Dante shut his eyes for a second and wished the memory to fade.

"_I am not a demon anymore._

_And Vergil won't come to save me._

_But I still want to stay beside him. I'll just go talk to him. Maybe beg?_

_Move, Dante._ _You have to survive."_

He slowly uncurled himself and made himself stand up from the bench.

"_I need a weapon against the demons."_

It took him several minutes to clean the two ribs in the rat's chest from the skin and flesh and another couple of minutes to tear them out, pulling with two hands, pushing the body down with his feet at the creature's shoulder. Finally it cracked and with unpleasant crunches of the tendons breaking the two ribs came off.

Dante panted and got his two newly-made daggers one in a hand. He still didn't know where the power to break the first cuff came from; he had been in too much shock to understand anything at that moment. Even if it had been the adrenalin, he was grateful for the final release.

"_Move, Dante."_

And he moved. Along the white corridors, until he saw a pair of nurses who dashed at him with syringes – with sedatives, apparently – as soon as they noticed him. Two huge red fleurs-de-lis unfolded over the white plaster of the corridor, spreading the spray-drops-sprouts over the closed doors with no windows. But it was only for a moment – then the bright and rich smell of fresh blood unveiled and covered him like a cloak and the flowers faded into black pools on the tiled floor.

Dante moved without stopping, painting the deaf and blind walls red, to the sole goal he had. Not to the exit, but further into the labyrinth of the tunnels and passages that became older and older. When the plaster was not white anymore, but old yellow, when it started to peel off, when the walls turned into old orange and auburn crumbling bricks, he was still walking confidently, even though his gait was wavering, every swing of his hand a lethal seed to immediately bloom into a flower of blood petals and torn-muscle leaves.

Dante was on the fifth floor underground, he remembered from the talk with the detective, so it was the same level as his destination, he just needed to get out into the system of the underground halls that, he knew, spread throughout the city. Because his own father made those. Because in the middle of it all would be the Gate. And there – there would be Vergil.

"_Of course I wasn't ready to let you go. I don't ever want you to leave my fucking side. So what? I want to see you! I am not letting you leave me behind. I can still make it in time."_

Stabbing the rib-knives into the bodies became easier with every next time, so Dante dropped them somewhere on the way. He turned to smearing the bodies of the demons with his own hands, tore out their warm guts, searched inside their convulsing bodies without stopping until he found the heart and squeezed life out of it, till it burst in a splur of black and red right inside them or right in front of his face. They painted small and big red flowers over the white walls, then over the old-fashioned wallpapers of the older corridors, then over the ancient stones of the underground passages.

At some point, there was no light anymore, even the lonely old yellow bulbs were broken, then the wires were torn, and Dante walked in darkness, lead by smell and sound alone. The demons in human forms were all left behind, ahead he could hear the dull hum of the hordes of the demons he was used to: those ugly grey-black-red claws and tails type.

Dante was human, but he was ready.

'Only Vergil can hurt me,' he said into the corridors and the darkness, and walked into the gigantic underground hall that was lit up by the quiet glow of a huge red stone in the middle of it. It had the square shape and a ton of golden runes laced around it like a thousand ribbons. Made out of the demon blood, the Gate was pulsing. And judging by the moving floor of the hall, it was open.

'It might take some time,' Dante told the hall, and his happy voice echoed, multiplied many times by the tall stone walls and columns. A thousand glowing eyes – yellow, green, red and blue, turned to Dante from the darkness and the floor started moving towards him like one huge living body, boiling with demon energy and killing intent. The demons were there, which meant Vergil hadn't used the Gate yet.

'It is only a small crack between the worlds. You have to have Yamato to open the Gate properly. Which means I have a lot of pawns to take out. Whatever,' he shrugged.

The hum was nearing and soon Dante heard the cracks of stones under the claws and the chatter of teeth. The metal sound of Scythes followed.

Suddenly several flocks of blood goyles swung their wings open and like a flock of fire birds lit up the cave, the columns, the human bones on the ground and the nearing wave of demons. The shrieks of the goyles signaled the beginning of Dante's second battle.

...

His feet hurt. Dante sighed and put his bare feet into the pool of blood. It covered him up to the calves, and it was a pleasant feeling after running around in darkness, stumbling on sharp stones.

Well, it was not only the feet. His _everything_ hurt. His neck and back from the impact of the hits they took, his stomach hurt because of the reopened wounds and because of another huge hole in his right side. There were at least seven broken ribs in his body now. And the most pain brought the broken nails and the thousands of scratches on his hands.

Dante closed his burning eyes and cuddled closer to the round stone stand that had a whole for Yamato at the top of it. He was right at the Gate and the key was right behind his back.

The devil hunter put his hands down, but it took him some time with eyes closed to find another decent pool of cooling black demon blood in the middle of torn flesh and bones sticking out. He never knew before how nasty was a cut from a broken bone. How soothing the blood could be, even if it is the acid icy demon blood with the distinct smell of sulphur.

The movement in the hall had finally stilled and Dante rested.

"_Just not to fall asleep before he comes here…" _But the wounds and the blood loss overpowered him.

...

Vergil walked with inhuman swiftness and easiness along the bloody path of demon bodies. Bodies wrecked, torn apart, torn inside out, crushed and smeared along the walls. He almost ran, regretting being a stupid selfish idiot and not talking to Dante earlier.

He long forgot about the human crawling somewhere behind him.

All Vergil wanted was to fix things. "_I should have stayed. It is too late now, so all I can do now is…"_

Dante was sleeping in the middle of the Gate Hall, leaning onto the key stand. Vergil ran to his younger twin in a robe of bloody sprays.

He leaned to his sleeping second half and took him by the shoulders.

'Dante!' the older Sparda called in a whisper.

The devil hunter opened his eyes and immediately closed his arms around his brother, pushing him closer. Dante didn't dare to close his eyes, so he stared at the blue leather of the coat and inhaled the scent of winter. He hid his head in the crock of Vergil's neck. Even the stench of blood couldn't kill that fresh pine tree smell, especially when he could feel it so close.

His brother couldn't see Vergil's face, so the older Sparda let the bright smile take over his features.

'Verge, please, I don't care what you do,' Dante mumbled. 'If you want, I will never speak again. I always talk nonsense. If you want, I will tidy up everything and I will look after my things, if you want, I will give up hunting the demons. You can fuck me if you want, but please, say you will come back…'

Vergil bit his lip, the smile exorcised from his face. "_What have I done…"_

'Dante, I…' the older Sparda was lost and had no words to explain how sorry he was, so he said what he had wanted since morning. What he should have said instead of a good-bye. 'Come with me, Dante.'

'Liar,' Dante whispered to him back, offended, and Vergil felt a sharp piece of bone pierce him through the heart. Pain and disgust and disbelief and fear.

'Real Vergil would have never asked me to come with him. He never ever did!' Dante shouted at him, childish disappointment in his voice, and pushed the older Sparda back, crawling away from the creature he saw as an imposter.

'I'm sorry,' Vergil wheezed, and fell to his knees onto the flesh-covered floor. He looked down, still refusing to acknowledge the piece of broken bone in his heart, but the raw pain and his pulsing body were too clear of an evidence. 'I guess, this is retribution for never asking you to.'

Vergil put his gloved left hand over the sticking out piece of bone and pushed it further in, until it all went inside his heart and the edge was leveled to the lines of his body. At that moment his hand was lying flat over his chest, dark hot strings running down through his fingers and into his sleeve down to the elbow.

The older Sparda held out his hand, uncovering the wound and letting the blood life gurgle out of him.

'Just,' Vergil said, coughing, gasping for air and drowning in it. 'Promise me you'll drink my blood and heal yourself.'

'I love you,' his body lost the last bits of life force and crumbled down. But instead of hitting the stones and bones, Vergil's body rested on his brother's hands. The last thing he could feel was the familiar heart beat and a pulse in his chest, the thin cord that was yet stronger than any tie, and Dante's voice that was screaming for him through the fog:

"_Verge!"_

**...endo chap 28...**

**You don't write me reviews. I give you no fanservice.**

**If you dont like the shitty end tell me about it. **

Ethan.


	29. Blood, sweat and tears

...

**Babbling**

...

**Warnings:** the usual, and see the title

**Half Betad (Tora, Nim =*)**

'Dialogue'

_"Thoughts"_

**Dedicated **to **Fate_Eater **and especially to** KiKa (90% of the chap are yours, dear)**

...

The last thing he could feel was the familiar heart beat and a pulse in his chest, the thin cord that was yet stronger than any tie, and Dante's voice that was screaming for him through the fog:

"_Verge!"_

...

By the time detective Steeve Larson managed to get to the Gate, the tall white-haired man was unconscious, in the arms of his twin, lying on the floor in the mess of tendons, blood and flesh; the suspect of the double murder, his twin, was drinking blood right from the open wound on his brother's chest. He then stopped and tightened the embrace, then cried. The suspect grabbed a random piece of bone from the side, tearing it out of the original body with inhuman strength and ripped open an artery on his neck and leaned down to his brother.

Detective Steeve Larson was too far to distinguish what exactly happened in the darkness of the underground hall.

By the time FBI got the crime scene both twins died. Cause of death: older one – stabbed through heart; younger one – blood loss and numerous internal bleeding.

Detective Steeve Larson was mentally unstable and was put into a psycho ward.

**Okay, see the '…' before the sentence about Steeve? From there to here is not the text of the story, but my pms. So I delete it now from the previous chapter. Forget about it. I would have never killed them. Fuc, I worked 2 much on it to do that. So. Now I present those who survived till now:**

**Chap 29**

**Blood, sweat and tears**

The tips of the thin lips crooked the tiniest bit into the smallest shade of a smile, and Dante knew it was Vergil. It was so Vergil, a thin line of understanding, razor-sharp and lightning-fast, clearing all the fog that clouded his mind, leaving the devil hunter with a solid knowledge: in front of him was his twin, with his heart stabbed – by no one else's hand but Dante's.

"_Verge!"_

His brother's body lost balance and started falling gracefully. Dante unconsciously caught it, Vergil's head resting in the angle of his elbow, his body relaxing in the devil hunter's arms, slender legs sliding along the slick stone floor.

'No!' Dante's palm pressed to his older twin's cheek, leaving black liquid fingerprints on pale skin, thumb brushing the lower lip. 'No-no-no-no-no!'

Vergil didn't move, didn't breathe. Something small burst within his body and a shimmering blue shockwave scattered around the underground hall. Small cyan lightnings, almost tangible, almost visible, were cracking over the older Sparda's body, and Dante felt as the power so familiar, the power of his father, started leaking from its vessel.

'Verge!' Dante shook the body aimlessly. Vergil was lying motionless in his beloved light blue coat with the unsymmetrical golden snaky pattern, fitting yellowish high shoes, in his usual blue pants and vest; even the scarf was in place, covering his throat. Useless things.

'Verge, Verge, please…' Dante muttered non-stop, but only the blood in the wound on his brother's chest gurgled.

"_Blood!"_

The cuts and holes Dante had in his stomach were too difficult to bring to his brother's mouth, so he glanced around in panic, looking for a weapon, but there was nothing sharp except for the crushed bones. Dante let his brother's head fall slightly lower on his arm, grabbed the nearest piece and slashed across the vein at the curve of his left elbow with all the force he could muster. The gash was big and ugly and painful, but the red thick blood spilled freely.

'Drink!' Dante threw his weapon away and pushed his twin's head to the wound so that Vergil's mouth would be facing the spilling hot liquid. 'Verge, can you hear me? Drink, I beg you, brother, you have to drink this!'

The tricklesreached Vergil's face and ran along his cool cheek. Dante pulled his brother further into the embrace, closer, and pressed his lips to the gash, prying his mouth open with his thumb.

"_It's a pity, really,"_ Vergil was most relaxed and soaring over the never ending sea of blood, under the black sky of the night Demon world. _"It was never my intention to die this way, but oh well. It is even a little bit romantic, to die by the hand of my own brother. I have been in the same situation so many times, prepared to leave this world, at my brother's mercy. But I didn't mind, because if Dante beat me it just meant one thing – I was wrong somewhere. And now, how can rescuing him be wrong? I pay for something this way, and I know all too well what for. My retribution has come. Ironically, this time I don't want to leave him."_

"_Verge!"_ the hot red pull in his chest made the sky waver and the ocean of blood rippled.

"_Calling for me. I don't want to leave him. I still have my regrets and – I haven't even touched him properly. Disappointing."_ Vergil closed his eyes and let the strong cord of their connection pull him out of the calm eternity.

Thrashing his body, all the forces of reality struck Vergil at the same time: his wound pulsed with pain, it was hard to breathe, he was drowning in the air and his every cell hurt as if it had been burnt. As if he had just been born.

It seemed like long hours when several seconds passed and Vergil lay motionless in Dante's arms. The devil hunter kept muttering his name, as if his twin would hear.

Dante almost jerked away in surprise as suddenly Vergil shivered, opened his mouth with long demon fangs instead of teeth and, grabbing the younger Sparda's arm, and dug into the open gash.

The devil hunter gasped and immediately let out a shaky exhale: he hadn't been so happy ever in his life before. Dante bent his knee, pushing his brother's body closer to his chest, helped Vergil turn onto his side and snaked his fingers into the older Sparda's white disheveled locks, getting a hold of a whole fist of hair and guiding Vergil as he sucked blood – and life – out of his vein.

Only one sensation was relieving, and it was the liquid life on Vergil's lips, crawling along his tongue and into his body, right to the heart, through his organs and tissues, reviving everything it touched. Vergil opened his mouth wider and drank in huge gulps, his lips and teeth squeezing the life out of the squishy flesh. He feasted on it, as it he was breathing for the first time, drinking for the first time, living for the first time.

Dante was looking at his twin, who was rhythmically sucking on his vein: a bite at the flesh, a suck of blood, tongue on the flesh, lapping, a new bite... it reminded Dante of sex. The feeling was as intimate as the first time he made love to woman.

Life was returning to Vergil and he noted that he was digging into flesh like a beast, with animal abandon and wilderness. He opened his eyes, relaxed his jaw and pushed away from the hurt delicate human body. It was an arm. Vergil turned his head: Dante's arm.

"_I'm sorry, I didn't mean to hurt you,"_ the older Sparda stretched his hand and put it on the top of his younger twin's head. Dante was beaming at him like crazy from under his palm. He was fine, and Vergil calmed down.

'Hey. I was lying here, thinking, that you might decide to unstuck the huge piece of bone from my heart, since I believe we both do not want me dead. And if you don't plan on dying today, too, you might want to drink from the wound in my chest.'

'Oh, sure, sorry,' Dante started to older Sparda's hand slid along his cheek, neck, past his bare chest, down.

Five digits dug into Vergil's wound, stretching the torn fabric of the vest and tearing the skin unpleasantly, the big ugly piece of hurt was tugged out and replaced by liquid and fleshy agony. Vergil shivered and bit his lip. Not loosing his composure was easier when he looked at Dante. Him, in front o Dante, screaming or writhing, was unthinkable, so he lay in his brother's embrace almost placidly.

'Do you mind stopping your silly smiling? I am afraid that this disease is rather contagious.' Vergil smirked through blood in his lungs.

'Shut the fuck up!' his younger twin smacked the back of Vergil's head with indignation.

Vergil stared.

'You seriously did that now?' before Dante could form a coherent excuse, the older Sparda laughed and grabbed him by the back of his neck. 'Come here.'

The devil hunter let the strong hand guide him down, to the dark hole in his brother's chest. The smell and taste shook Dante at the same time, his suddenly dry lips fell open and he put his tongue out to touch the dark warmth. Fresh snowy smell of Vergil's skin, rich smell of his blood, all-encompassing and never-ending enveloped him; the taste of the first small lick exploded in his mouth, hot, burning like ice burns the tender flesh. But the cold feel dissolved in a second and flourished in the devil hunter's mouth into a gentle metal warmth with a hardly tangible undertaste of sweetness.

Dante wanted more. Much more. He let his tongue out to lick at the open wound again. At the same time Vergil turned back to his arm and closed his mouth over the gash on his younger twin's arm, this time without biting with his fangs, just a soft suck to draw out blood; and the virus crawled from Dante into Vergil – the precious virus of life.

Sensations struck Dante thousand times harder than before. He drank blood from his older twin's chest, and it flowed its way into his soul rather than his body, making him aware of Vergil like he never ever was: hair, slightly damp from the humid air of the underground hall; pale face with the dark blood prints of the devil hunter's palm on the left cheek; long white eyelashes resting – eyes closed; rhythmically moving lips, sucking him; the light movements of Vergil's neck as he swallowed greedily; the relaxed shoulders and his hand over Dante's neck, fingers playing with strands of hair; the chest, rising unevenly, the shimmering pulse within the ribcage; the flat stomach; narrow hips; long legs slightly bent up, the only sign of impatience in how Vergil tugged them closer in an attempt to curl up but then let the heels of the shoes slide in a pool of blood and his legs almost lay back to the stone floor.

Dante closed his eyes, the hand on his neck moved to the back of his head, stroking the wrong way, combing through hair, and pushed him down, encouraging. Now, it was definitely perverted and intimate enough to count as sex.

"_I am not sucking you cock, asshole, I am fucking feeding on you open heart."_ Dante would have rolled his eyes if he wasn't so into lashing Vergil's muscles with his tongue – in the literally unpleasant sense, not in the figuratively erotic one.

"_Oh, I know,"_ Vergil's voice replied in his head. _"But it doesn't make it less erotic."_

"_Get out of my head, asshole,"_ Dante grumbled back. He would have been more impressed with his brother's ability to intervene with his thoughts if several minutes ago he didn't think he'd killed the afore-mentioned brother.

The older Sparda snickered into the wound. The moment of crisis had passed, and Vergil was sure his younger twin knew this as well, so both of them were still drinking not to survive, but to patch up their physical wounds, and to stay connected – to patch as many wounds on their hearts as was possible.

Vergil finally licked for the last time along the thin line into which the gash on Dante's arm had turned and cleaned up the last drops of blood. He then shifted his body to settle comfortably on his twin's knees,wrapped in Dante's arms, and kept watching through the half-lidded eyes as his brother sucked blood from the almost closed wound on his heart.

The devil hunter's long white locks were in the way so Vergil combed them back with his hand, revealing the concentrated look, the closed eyes, the lips all covered in crimson and glistering, and a playful tongue tracing the slowly fading white lines of the wound.

Dante was too involved into gulping down the living liquid to care about his surroundings at first, so he realized with great surprise that his fingers had undone the vest oh his twin's chest and pushed it to his brother's sides to bare Vergil's pale chest and stomach. Now that Dante had slowed down and tore his lips off his brother's chest, he didn't know where to put his arms. He would have leaned onto Vergil but there was - skin. Everywhere else was uncomfortable or dirty. In the end, he had no choice and rested his right palm across his older twin's ribcage with hesitation. It made Vergil twitch and on his bare stomach the muscles became hard and evident under the tender skin. Dante could spend the whole day stroking just to look at how those muscles were working - relaxing into the curvy lines of the body then tensing into the hard armor.

"_Would he freak out if I leaned down and licked it?"_ and he stared at Vergil's navel as he caught himself thinking that. _"I'm so screwed – it must be the blood."_

'Sated?' the older Sparda smirked. 'Then how about you make yourself useful and repeat it all slightly lower?'

Engulfed by the shock at his previous thought, Dante licked his lips, failing at cleaning them and only smearing the blood, and automatically looked lower, where Vergil's hand was directing him with a slight pull on his hair. Below was the flat stomach and the beltline of the dark blue trousers. Apparently, Vergil was excited.

Somehow, Dante's mind became crystal clear in a blink of an eye.

'I am not doing it.' The devil hunter looked back up at his older twin. 'No way in Hell.'

'Oh well,' Vergil made an indifferent face, swiftly put his arms round his brother's waist and turned him over. Dante suddenly was lying down, staring into the darkness, flat cold stone against his back. He must have been lying on a puddle of a blood, since it was wet and oily against his skin, but Dante ignored it easily when Vergil towered over him with an impenetrable expression, which had to mean there was something behind it to conceal.

'Verge?'

'Anyway,' the older Sparda leaned in, 'you will have to feed on me for several days.' Vergil kissed the small scars on Dante's stomach one by one, making the devil hunter shiver involuntary. 'You are human now, so you will have to heal properly. I will take some time.'

'Um. If you say so,' Dante put his hands onto his twin's shoulders and tried to push him away. 'Cut it out already. You've already overcome your dose of allowed inappropriate remarks and actions. Your quota is filled for today, so buzz off.'

Vergil raised his head and ignored his twin's words completely.

'You are wearing my old white jeans,' he noted out of the blue, and sat back, eyeing the sprawled Dante, then pushed his leg between his brother's. 'You shouldn't ruin the things that are not your own,' Vergil reprimanded, grieving at the blood stains, red and black. 'However,' he pushed his other leg between Dante's and pulled the devil hunter up by the shoulders to sit, the younger Sparda's arms around Vergil's neck, his legs bent slightly on either side of Vergil.

'…you should wear my clothes more often.' A hot whisper came into Dante's ear and the cool palms slid around his waist to the oily traces on his back. 'This way it feels you are one of my possessions.'

The devil hunter's face was burning, eyes wide. _"You promised to leave all that shit behind!"_

'Verge, bugger off-…!' he almost shrieked in disbelief, but his older brother cut him short with curt, quick words.

'I would have fucked you senseless but for this bloody environment.' Vergil panted, the chapped lips touching Dante's earlobe.

'Uh.' Dante stared at the red glow of the gate in the darkness of the hall. _"What happened to 'I will behave like a brother'?_" It was getting to him. Vergil was getting to him. Snaking under his skin in a nasty feeling of arousal. _"How the fuck do you react to blurts like that?"_

"_You don't,"_ Vergil's obliging voice chanted into Dante's confused mind. _"You say: Yes, master."_

"_Get out of my head."_The older Sparda's presence in his thoughts scared the devil hunter, as he couldn't make out how much of what he was thinking or feeling was clear to his brother.

'Dante,' Vergil called, raising his arms from Dante's waist up to thumb his ribs. 'Give in,' he pulled back and rested his forehead against his brother's. 'I want you at least to touch me now.'

'Em,' the devil hunter looked into his twin's shiny azure eyes and regretted it immediately as the eye-contact made him even more uncomfortable and even more embarrassed. 'I don't think I can.'

Dante was never the one to pass he'd rather have than not have; that included Vergil; 3. something that promised good time. But there were certain issues against it.

'Oh.' The older Sparda's lips formed a perfect 'o' and froze in the shape, a symbol of perplexity and indignation at same time. Dante inhaled and exhaled slowly. The perfect 'o' begged to be outlined by his tongue. Oh, there definitely were certain issues for.

'I mean, this is not exactly how…' the devil hunter stumbled through the words. 'I, kinda, this is a first…' he just couldn't bring himself to say that out loud so instead Dante tried to appeal to the awkwardness of the circumstances. 'I mean, we are still here, in the middle of an underground hall filled with corpses, if you have somehow forgotten?' He locked his fingers behind Vergil's neck and looked around, verifying his own words. With the amount of charisma his older twin was radiating he himself was slightly surprised that he still remembered where and who he was.

'What does it matter? Maybe I find it nothing if not arousing to have you within my grasp amidst the evidence of your power.' The lips twisted into a snicker and in a swift motion the tongue moistened them. The arms got hold of Dante's hips and pulled them close enough for him to be connected to Vergil, Dante's inner thigh to the older Sparda's waist and the white jeans right against the dark blue fabric of Vergil's trousers. 'Now, I want you to touch me.' The wet lips enchanted.

Dante almost gave in to them and almost closed the distance, but stopped, panted, and shut his eyes.

"_I mean, he sure as hell says all the embarrassing stuff. He doest it either just to get to me or he really means it. Either way, it's a fucking lose-lose situation, it's Vergil for fuck's sake and my bloody brother always gets what he wants. So the question is, what if I screw up somewhere in the middle? What if I do something wrong this time? I always screw up, right? Especially if we talk about Vergil…"_

Arousal of the demon blood he had drank was heavy in Dante's veins, and he knew perfectly well it was unnatural and absolutely due to the chemical reaction. The sane part of Dante's brain, if there was such, knew he had to say 'Go fuck yourself sick bastard!', punch Vergil hard in the face and make a scene. But the memory of his belief in Vergil's death didn't allow him to go through with the plan.

'What's wrong?' the older Sparda asked softly. 'You are thinking too much.' He kissed Dante's frown. 'Cut it out, thinking does not suit you.'

"_Oh, now you go seriously for it. Fuck you Verge, it's not freaking fair, gimme a break. What if we start this shit and at some point I change your mind and you leave?" _the devil hunter tightened his grip around the older Sparda's neck for a second, bringing their bodies close enough to feel the beating of the other's heart through the connected skin, then pushed back.

'I just can't.' Dante gave his brother an apologetic look.

'Why not? It's not like you haven't seen or touched me before.' The older Sparda remained emotionless, but deep inside he took the offence badly and treated it as deadly insult.

'But!-…' _"I'll kill him later for the embarrassment of saying this."_ 'It is the first time you know it is me.'

Vergil paused and tried to comprehend. He still didn't recognize the argument as a weighty one.

'I remember all our previous encounters, if you are unaware.' The older Sparda explained and tried to catch his brother's glance, to no avail. Dante was avoiding his gaze.

'Yeah but you wouldn't have killed me if I screwed up then.' His younger twin said quietly.

'Do not think about such things,' Vergil failed to suppress a smile. 'Right now I wouldn't care as long as you touch me. And even if you fail miserably I still will cum because I want all of you right now, the failure that you are included.'

"_I am above frying his ass for such a low-class insult. I am above it. I truly am._

_On the other hand…" _Dante looked down to his blood-stained jeans. Even now he remembered what the dry thin fingers of the rat felt like.

'I might need some new experience, though…' the devil hunter shuddered involuntarily at the memory. 'For the sake of forgetting the previous one.'

'Was it that bad?' Vergil raised an eyebrow. Surely their last encounter was not that terrible. Of course, his heart was not into it, since the older Sparda was convinced the girl in his arms was just a girl, but still. The way Dante put his long leg in a black stiletto shoe against his chest was crystal clear in Vergil's mind, as well as the low hoarse voice that said 'Fuck me Vergil. Now.' Dante meant it then, every single word, the older Sparda could swear. Sex couldn't have been so bad, could it?

'Yeah, it was one of the worst things I ever had to go through,' Dante sighed in a graveyard voice, still looking down. The importunate thoughts of the rat incident sent cold shivers down his back and arms.

'Oh.' The older Sparda fell silent. His brother's face was serious and the trembling Vergil could feel under his twin's skin was real. It was no joke and no caustic remark. The older Sparda rarely had to face his mistakes or failures and he didn't know what to say, so he bit his lip nervously and whispered an apology to Dante: 'I didn't know…' Vergil was lost and ashamed; he combed his twin's stubborn white hair back from his forehead with care. 'I am sorry. We should stop then…'

Vergil's arms slid away and suddenly uncoiled Dante's embrace from around his twin's neck. The older Sparda carefully lifted his brother up and seated the devil hunter onto a stone, farther from himself.

'You don't want me anymore?' Dante looked up, speaking his mind without thinking.

Vergil stared. Apparently, his idiot of a brother had a simple and innocent thought in mind, but it did not make up enough of an excuse for how those words sounded.

'Of course I do want you, moron,' The older Sparda grumbled, from the bottom of his heart he hated having to deal with Dante's kid-mode. 'But… Look, I regret not realizing I hurt you the last time. Forgive me if you can. And if something like that happens again, tell me. Don't be silent…'

'Um.' The devil hunter settled on the stone as comfortable as he could, the stone being slick and cold, his legs hurting like hell and his whole body aching all over. He frowned, then squinted at his older twin. 'What exactly are you talking about?'

'About your last experience…' Vergil answered, taken slightly aback.

'I wasn't you, you self-centered jerk!' Dante laughed. 'Now give me your shoulder my head is lead heavy and splitting apart. I need something to lean onto.' And without any warning he let his body fall forward right into the older Sparda, who despite the surprise caught him almost gracefully.

'Who was that?' Vergil's calm even voice asked, that voice which made him so intimidating sometimes.

'Oh, I killed it already.' Dante mumbled into the blue leather on Vergil's shoulder. His own voice now seemed too loud, so he whispered: 'But it was one hell of a disturbing shit.'

'What happened?'

'Don't worry, nothing much.' The devil hunter his a chuckle. _"Nah, no way I am going to tell you I thought it was you. Your ego is vast enough as it is, so I am not feeding it."_ 'But I would kill to have some normal human body beside me right now.'

'I see.' Vergil thoughtfully drawled. 'Do you want me to call Lady?'

'Why the fuck?' Dante sat up and looked at his twin in confusion.

'She is the only human I know,' was Vergil's concise answer.

'I was speaking of **you**.'

'Oh.'

And the conversation suddenly hit a dead-end. For about a minute they sat still, Vergil studying his brother's expression, Dante studying his brother's neck-chest-stomach-bad-idea.

'Just going for it would definitely stop your inner turmoil, since you act before thinking anyway.' The older Sparda suggested nonchalantly.

Dante's tolerance to naked pick-up lines burst like a nuclear bomb, so he grabbed the stand-up collar of the older Sparda's blue leather coat and shouted at the top of his lungs:

'Will you stop it already? Can't you do it one at a time – insult, comfort or try to seduce me? Chose one fucking option and stop driving me nuts!'

'Yeah, that's more like my brother.' Vergil smirked and calmly ruffled up fuming Dante's hair. 'I understand the past 24 hours were hard for you, sex with me in your female form, the changes and the aftershock of going to Hell, the fear when you became human… but Dante, you definitely have to stop being so sappy. It's not like you. Just look around, even as a human you cleared up the bloody hall around the Gate. You are strong, get it into your head, and bring my brother back out.'

'I'm kickass, I know,' the devil hunter smacked his twin's hand away angrily. 'But as a human I almost **died** getting here. And hearing the word strong coming out of your full-devil mouth sounds more like an offence.'

'Just stop babbling.' Vergil was irritated, but didn't mean it really. 'You are the only one who recovers no matter how many times I break you. You are the freaking strongest person I have ever met. So shut up and be yourself.' By his relaxed posture, the smug thin line of his lips and the playful glint in his eyes, Vergil was definitely having fun, though Dante couldn't make out why exactly.

The real reason for his older twin's good mood was really the way it felt to be lecturing Dante. It was like they were again five years old and Vergil had to teach Dante something so obvious that his head hurt trying to explain and answer all the stupid objections. This time, surprisingly, Vergil had to prove to Dante that Dante was fine. Which was hard to do when Dante was being panicky self-torturing moron.

'Doubting and thinking were never your fortes. So don't.' Vergil poked his younger brother's forehead, earning a grunt and glare-daggers. 'Whatever comes in our way we are going to live through it, you hear me? And if I ever fail you and leave you like I did earlier today, don't go moping. Seriously. Just follow me and do what you always do when I am being an ass – punch me in the face.'

'O-kay.' Dante suddenly agreed and Vergil deducted something in his speech must have finally worked. And he knew exactly what when with a loud – slap! – of the younger Sparda's hand his head spun to the side. It was numb for a moment and then his cheek was stinging as hell.

'That was so-o-o-o...' Vergil's half-smacked face distorted in the nastiest smirk ever as he was tasting the next word on his tongue: '…bitchy.'

'Now you are asking for it.' Dante stated with a blank face and this time formed a proper fist. Vergil's cheek became numb again, then hot, and he thought that maybe something cold was due. After all, how often had the katana master been punched in the face? Not that he could remember even once, since he was seven. And if Dante was pretty much used to bruises thanks to his own dexterity and grace, Vergil did not much appreciate the painful ugly marks, especially not on his face.

'Whatever,' Dante winced at the pain in his knuckles and gave up thinking about any more punching: his body was already at its limit and, maybe, past it; even breathing was hard. He had to decide what to do next. 'So,' slightly wobbling, the devil hunter managed to stand up. 'Are we going to the Demon world?'

The Gate was right there, the border between the worlds was fragile, and Vergil was a demon, who could pass it easily.

'Forget it,' the older Sparda stood up as well, right in time to catch Dante who slipped on something squishy and slick on the floor – he didn't really want to look down to know what exactly it was.

'Why? Weren't you going there? Wasn't it the point of all the suffering?' Dante asked, his face flat against his brother's chest, his body hanging helplessly on Vergil's arms lie a cloth doll.

'The point of going to the Demon world was to kick some bosses' asses. And you,' the older Sparda easily tossed his brother up and had Dante seated on his clasped hands, limbs down on either side of the older twin and face now right in front of Vergil's. 'You are rendered completely and utterly powerless and useless.'

'Wu?-' Dante's jaw fell open in complete outrage. He would have started a fight if having somebody else move his body weight wasn't so nice. 'What happened to you-are-strong speeches, you cock-hungry lecherous jerkass?'

'Heh,' The older Sparda was looking the raging Dante right in the eye, which was close enough for him to see every single while eyelash, and the helplessness of his younger twin made him want to beam at everything in the world, bitches like Nevan included. Vergil was basking in it, feeling it in every single cell of his body, how Dante wanted a fight, and had to just stick to oral insults. It was a grand feeling. He couldn't feel better even if someone gave him the crown of the demon world, because for every single time that Dante was in absolute defeat, he had worked long and hard, and the less little slips he allowed, the greater was the impact. Now, the impact was good.

'Don't you heh me you fucker! Now you are saying it's my fault? Go fuck yourself you egoistic vein dickhead!'

"_Music,"_ Vergil glanced at the Gate for the last time, it's blood-red figure so impassive to anything that goes around, to the corpses on the floor, the their feelings, and headed towards the father end of the hall. Somewhere in the underground galleries there were exits to every corner of the city. He just had to find one close to the agency.

'Where the hell do you think you are taking me you smugface?' Dante roared into his ear rather loud – enough to make small stones rattle down from somewhere in the dark where the ceiling was supposed to be and probably loud enough for Vergil to become deaf for a second or two - but Vergil ignored him. He was especially good at ignoring when he was satisfied with himself. Moreover ignoring Dante just furthermore inflamed the younger Sparda's fury, thus making the older twin's day even more pleasant.

"_I will consider it revenge for fucking up with me – and not fucking me." _As the thought made its way through Vergil's twisted mind, he noted with a great portion of content that something hard and hot was pushed against his groin. _"Oh, he can blabber whatever shit he can spout, how everything is wrong and how he can't so it, I am so not buying it today."_

'Verge, stop! I say stop!' Dante rose his head from his brother's shoulder and informed his twin with a pout: 'You have to go back anyway. There is something I forgot there near the room where I was kept. And I am not leaving without it.'

For a moment the older Sparda wanted to complain and come up with some spiteful remark. But his day was good enough already: he got Dante back on his hands, there was no need to go to the Demon world right away and there was no need to go there alone. As an additional bonus he would have three whole days to torture Dante by house arrest and bed regime, by reminding him constantly of being helpless and human and even maybe by making him drink medicine just for the sake of torture itself.

Vergil was too lazy to do it, but it was inevitable, so he turned around and went, stumbling in darkness to the passage that lead back to the ward. Clueless Dante was satisfied with that and smacked his head back into the crook of his older twin's neck. It was becoming a habit of his, not that Vergil minded.

Dante sighed heavily, but said nothing.

The older Sparda glance at him, tightened his grip on the tired body, and continued to rummage through demon remains on his way to the exit.

Dante sighed again, slowly and heavily.

When he sighed the third time, Vergil rolled his eyes: 'What is it now?'

'Oh, nothing,' Dante mumbled into his twin's coat and his hair tickled Vergils' neck.

'Do you want me to let your sorry ass fall down into this nice puddle of blood and flesh?' the older Sparda asked in the niciest of voices.

'Um,' Dante lifted his chin to look over his brother' shoulder at the puddle. It was definitely the worst decision since without the rush of adrenalin it looked rather vomit-inspiring. 'I was just thinking of how to deal with, um, this little problem.'

'Hah,' another smug smirk broke loose. 'This is what you get for not doing what your older brother tells you.'

'What do I get?' Dante asked innocently. Or maybe he was just emptied after the day, of he was just dumb.

'…' "_Divine retribution."_

'… you asshole you were all over me there, and you are not even hard?' Dante realized there was nothing to accuse Vergil back. He sat upright fast and even spent his last energy to grab his twin's collar and pull his face dangerously close. 'What is the meaning of this?' he hissed.

"_So many teasing lines, so little choice if I ever want to have a decent conversation with him again. My life is a tragedy in its every minute."_

'Unlike you poor little broken human, I can control mu body rather well, even when I am excited.'

Vergil noticed a human in bloodied clothes leaning onto the stone wall.

The blonde detective was smoking a cigarette, probably the last one he had, holding it with trembling fingers, and eyeing two suspicious men. They looked alike. One was standing tall, in long blue coat, holding the other, dressed in dirty jeans and barefoot, in his arms. Both were covered profoundly in black stains which were undoubtedly the blood of demons. And he would have believed them to be real if when they approached they hadn't been discussing…

'You mean you can will a bloody erection away? Now **that** is fucking cheating!'

**...endo chap 29...**

**You just have to drop me a line now, ok?**

**Push the fucking 'review' button**

**PUSH IT PUSH IT PUSH IT**

Ethan.

….push it…

i can see how many of you are there you bastards, i have statistics! It's killing me!

i know you read it and i dont know what you think! Do you want my head to explode?

push the fuckin button!


	30. Caught red lipped, white handed

...

**Babbling**

...

**Warnings:** yaoi stuff! Smutty! Voyeristic?

**Betad and Inspired by Nimlinven**

'Dialogue'

_"Thoughts"_

**Dedicated to Nim who was my ero-muse!**

**To ****2lazy2login, **thanx a lot I appreciate your despite-laziness review! Welcome to the story!

**Diana Wong** thank you for the loyalty!

**Edge of the Sky**the little childhood thingies r 4 u. hope you enjoy the smut as well)

**Asplar**hope this time you like the humour.

**BoQuinTao** thanx 4 the loyalty and I know I was a long time. But yeah, I have to make it good. Otherwise it writing sux. Please bear with me some more and have patience!

**Alyssa Abyss **моему одинокому русскому другу! Я кажется уду писать перевод фика 0_0 а пока наслаждайтесь англицким сматом.

**Reikome**i i think i'll make it my thing to play with last lines XD

**KiKa** thanks for feeding me big revies. YUMMY! So here is something yummy 4 you in this chapter! Enjoy!

**JJKMagic** thanks for staying here, I hope you like the twins here, too!

**Juoduma** a lil vampiric, but you'll see Vergil uses it for an excuse. I promise less blood more sex next time!

**ladysubaru83** detective will be fine. You can start thinking who he will be with XD

**Barranca** more dante-pushing-around 4 u!

**Bubbly12** XD

...

**Chap 30**

**Caught red [-lipped, white-] handed**

In semidarkness cut by the crimson edgy glow of the Gate detective Steeve Larson was smoking a cigarette, probably the last one he had, holding it with trembling fingers. With great suspicion he eyed two men passing by. They looked alike. One strode by confidently, clad in long blue coat splattered with black demon blood, it was the man detective saw in the lobby of the hospital, but now his hair was messed down, matching his companion's. He was holding the other, the double murder culprit, in his arms, the twin barefoot and dressed in once white jeans that now were a mess of black, red stains and centuries-old dirt.

'Hey, detective!' the culprit beamed as soon as his brother passed the detective and he could see Steeve Larson from over his older twin's back. 'You might wanna start dragging your ass out of here, y'know?'

'Why?' the detective sighed. He was tired as hell and after all he had seen it was a true miracle he was not lying out cold or throwing up in the corner after fainting from the smell of sulfur and ripped flesh and another true miracle that his mind was still functioning. It must have taken up the non-astonishment mode and treated everything he saw with a tired rational readiness, delaying the shock and the panic till later.

'The cleaners will be here soon,' Dante whispered very low and cautiously, his nose buried in the blue leather of his brother's coat and his left eye shut close because of Vergil's silky strands tickling his cheek. 'And you do not want to meet them. They clean up everything that can give evidence to the existence of the Demon World. Everything, not only the remains.'

Somehow, despite aching all over, Steeve Larson gathered all his willpower and un-leaned from against a stone wall of the corridor and dragged himself slowly after the demon twins, gait sure and back straight despite the ache. His mind had the clarity of Alice in wonderland; clear, but mad as a hatter.

'If I were you, human, I would hurry,' the twin that introduced himself as Gilver dropped, and his voice was absolutely devoid of emotion, as all his motions – the elegant stride through the ruined corridor and wrecked bodies – were devoid of any feeling or manner, except for self-sufficiency and power that had to be behind such cool demeanor.

'Can you get my gun?' the culprit hummed from his twin's embrace. 'It seems like I'm a lil' stuck here.' He waved weakly his arms and legs; tired limbs framing his brother's walking body moved slightly, and it seemed to be all the power that was left in his body.

'Okay,' detective agreed automatically. He had several personal rules when dealing with psycos, but this time psycos were not the worst monsters in town, so he was going with the flow. After all, when facing something you do not know how to kill, it's good to have someone who does know a way.

'Then we part here,' Gilver concluded and at the nearest turn tossed up his twin as if he weighted not more than a plush bear, seated Dante on his arms with more care and with a level: 'Come find us at Devil Never Cry,' like a knight of the darkness he was gone into the black abyss of the old tunnel, into the wetness of the air, kept up by the dew and thin leaks of water on the ancient grey stone, into low spicy fragrance of the moss carpet with the intricate black blood pattern.

Detective Steeve Larson blinked at the silent abyss of the underground corridor, and not even the sound of footsteps was there to ensure him his mind was not painting it all up for him. He looked down at his destroyed leather shoes, the dirtied auburn trousers, the fitting gallows and jonquil shirt. There was a stroke of black liquid over his old silver badge.

He was that kid Hansel, stuck in the middle of nowhere, with the knowledge that the birds had eaten the crumbs he left, and there were tunnels, like a net of underground paths, some leading to the white walls of the hospital cages; some, probably, even still full of those huge jelly birds and red- and black-clad scythe-carrying demons and shadow cats; some, probably, leading to the depths that were never intended for any human to ever visit.

Slowly, beside him appeared a tall woman, her long black curly hair brushing by his shoulder like a touch of butterfly. It was sudden, but the detective wouldn't have flinched even if she'd popped out with the speed of light right out of nowhere – there was an unspoken calm all around and no sound, no motion, even no feeling was to disturb it, as if he suddenly was at the bottom of the ocean under the oppressing thickness of the sound- and soul-eating waters.

So she appeared – as if already part of everything, unnoticed and approved, walking in the air right above the moss, the paddles, the stones, leaving no trace. For a moment, before she passed, her face was close to Steeve Larson's face and he saw her: body – in the blur of the movement – all covered in black shiny leather, more of a second skin rather than a suit. It even covered her face, three firm straps holding it at the back of her neck. She did not seem to breathe.

The newcomer passed, as though the seconds, the moments she was in were long and languid, like hours for Steeve Larson; and he in the transience of his own time couldn't follow her.

She disappeared as slow and unnoticed, as she showed up, and there were no more intricate patterns of blood on the moss and the stones, no more white bones and red and black intestines on the floor, no cool squelching pools.

Detective realized the time started its flow again and the huge solid crystals of air, heavy with smell of death and meat, cracked and the thin leaks of the chill of draught sipped up the heavy odor slowly but steadily.

Steeve Larson shivered and hurried ahead. All the heavy strangled thoughts that dwelled in his mind were the curse of that shadow woman that passed him, the time stretch was her deed, and once in his life, the detective knew exactly what to do. Run. So he went as fast as he could without loosing his composure in front of himself, and not fast enough to drown in panic.

"_I'll just get their gun and give it back. Devil Never Cry, right? I'll lie to anyone to know that I never ever see things like today and to know one thing for sure – those guys take care of the monsters. I've had my share of nightmares doing my job, and learning that it was child's play is not exactly inspiring."_

…

The annoying moron was sleeping. It was easier that way: at least, it was quieter. He was not really fond of when he didn't get what he wanted, and as it always had to be, he never had his way when it was the matter of Dante. So the least he could enjoy was the silence. No words, no bitterness, no understatements, no quarrels, just some distant echo of water drops.

In his sleep, the younger Sparda mumbled something about pine-trees and went back into slumber.

Vergil patiently stopped again, freed his one hand from under his twin's ass and threw Dante's arms that had slipped down, back over his shoulders. It was a hard task – the devil hunter's extremities hung powerlessly, since his body had wasted most of its energy and now was able to maintain only the vital processes. Apparently, clinging to his older brother was not on the list, despite it being vital. Not like the idiot ever chose the safe way anyway.

It was uncomfortable walking in absolute darkness with Dante's body limp like a sack of potatoes and limbs dangling helplessly. Well, if he tried to be completely honest with himself, which he honestly never intended to do, he was afraid he could unintentionally hit the younger twin's leg or arm against the stone walls of the tunnel. And he didn't want any more bruises of injuries on the human body of his twin.

Vergil's newly-acquired power that he craved so much made him nervously aware of himself. It was pleasant to have the power, reassuring; a background knowledge of possibilities; a huge pack of fears left behind, yet there was a slight bit of disappointment. Sometimes Dante would wince in pain at swear at the older Sparda for holding him too tight, muttering about how he could leave bruises or about how it was hard to breathe. Dante was exhausted and needed a true rest, at home, on the bed. All the devil hunter had now was a semblance of sleep, restless, at one moment dozing off, at another cracking one eye open to meet the blackness, then shutting it before the cool air could wake him truly. But even this seeming rest Vergil tried not to shatter, every now and then tossing his brother up and trying to ease his embrace, which unwillingly suffocated his twin with the demon power that now ran in the older Sparda's veins.

How much time had passed, he could not say in the never-ending net of underground tunnels, all the same cold stone, moss and water streaks; after all, they were built to prevent the curious from getting to the Gate. Vergil, however, had remembered most on the layout as far back as when he was a child, when they would sneak out with Dante, just an old bamboo sword in hand, and walk these tunnels, wandering, looking for adventures – and demons to train on.

He doubted their father ever knew about it, otherwise they would have listened to a truly impressive lecture on do-not-poke-what-can-eat-you-in-one-gulp, especially when you are about six human years old. But Dante never listened to those long boring lectures. And Vergil, he always dreamt of doing exactly the same and just screwing the rules. So they had those secret trips, together, once or twice a week, studying the tunnels and the halls, going deeper and deeper, till one of them would chicken out.

Vergil wondered if their mother ever knew about their secret trips. After all, it was he who did the laundry and had to remove the stains and patch up the tears. He was never that good at patching up to fool her. He wondered, would she be doing it for them now after they returned if she was alive. Strangely, the thought didn't wake the pain and brought up a whole new picture in his mind. He himself had a personal tailor in the city, the old lady who, despite her grumbling owed him enough favours to sew him tens and tens of coats, shirts, trousers and vests. Did Dante fix his clothes? At the thought of his younger twin, with a needle and a torn red coat, tongue stuck out in concentration, Vergil let a laugh out and it echoed, surprisingly joyful, through the grim ancient tunnels.

Whatever dwelled in the tunnels now, for Vergil these walls were not fearful at all. He was fine, since he was the scariest monster in there.

Finally, there was a dim glowing at the end of his path. The older Sparda once again rearranged the devil hunter in his arms, and hurried to the mirage of light. As he approached, it appeared to be a ladder, an old and rusty one, two plain pipes connected by smaller ones, thin steps through a round well up to a faraway orange glow.

The older Sparda sighed, recalling how deep exactly he was, and the perspective of climbing up five floors with a dead weight in his arms was not very alluring. Well, at least the dead weight shut up this time.

Vergil held Dante's ass with one hand, the younger twin's arms around his shoulders, Dante's legs around his waist, and grabbed the ladder, moss wet and sleazy under his fingers and rust hard and scratching.

"_I definitely have to buy a pair of gloves. Or better a dozen pairs."_ He pulled his body up and stepped onto the metal pipe, careful so that the sole of his leather boot didn't slip off. The ladder held him rather firmly, so Vergil made the next step and faced the first trouble on his way.

His two feet were accordingly on rungs one and two, so the older Sparda had to grip the ladder higher this time to move up, but if he let go of the ladder he would fall down immediately, Dante's weight pulling him back down. It was let go of Dante – or struggle and make it ugly.

"_Oh, the humiliation!"_ Vergil rolled his eyes and tightened his grip on the ladder, making a nice print of his five fingers on the pipe, collapsing it to a plain piece of iron.

"_I swear, I'll make you suffer later!" _with the demon speed he let go of the ladder, but as soon as gravity started dragging him down, Vergil clutched at the metal pipe at a higher place, successfully staying in vertical position, but failing to maintain any drop of dignity._ "Don't tell me I'll have to twitch up all the way…"_

He stared daggers into the darkness of the round tunnel going up, at the old ladder and at the tiny half-moon of orange light that was barely visible even as he was using all the demon power he had.

Dante's arms around the older Sparda's neck tightened and the sleeping twin muttered into Vergil's messed hair: 'You smell like winter.'

'Okay,' Vergil stated nonchalantly. 'Twitch up it is, then.'

…

On the fourth floor the old window sash broke under the force of her flying body and Lady thumped into the wall of the house on the opposite side of a small back alley, then landed safely, smashing the glass splinters on the cobblestones and looked up along the barrel of her gun.

Easy extermination mission. Easy money. Too quiet yet. They were somewhere inside the house and hopefully, smelling the blood on her knee, they would come. They would. They always did.

The silence of the night dragged out, disturbed only by the low buzz of the orange streetlight, one bulb working, the other three burnt out. Brick walls were hard enough to leave only three possibilities: the exit to the left, leading to the shopping street, the exit to the right, leading to a small garden, and – above. Yet everything was calm, except for the low chill, flowing at ankle's height.

Midnight was nearing. When working at night, she always used silencers, after having to explain herself to cops a couple of times, but Lady always dreamt of just doing her job – with bombs, gunshots, explosives and whatnot noisy means as long as it guaranteed her safety and the demon's death.

The broken window sash at the forth floor creaked, and Lady squinted behind the gun sight, hands steady. A shadow flew out and she shoot before understanding what kind of demon was creeping at her down the brick wall. Five shots later the gun was out of carts and a round white body of Arachne with long black legs still shuddering fell to the cobblestones, smearing the green blood around.

For a moment it was silent again, then the sewer manhole lid on the ground moved up.

"_I'm out of ammo,"_ she thought frantically and momentarily raised her leg high to smash the head of the monster with the heavy metal lid or at least send it back down to have enough time to reload.

Right before her low rubber heel connected to the lid, it opened enough for two identical faces, framed with white hair to be seen.

'Lady.'

'Boobs!' apparently from below her small white one-button jacket was still revealing enough.

'Fuck,' her leg connected with the manhole lid and with a loud bang on two heads sent the twins down. Lady imagined their fall vividly, made a miserable face and covered her face with her gloved hand, speechless. She hurried to step away from the manhole lid that now seemed more dangerous that anything that night.

'Uh,' said the lid after a minute of intense silence and went up flying into the far end of the alley when a very disheveled and moss- and oil- and rust-coated Vergil stuck his head out from a black hole in the ground.

'If my waste of a brother becomes even more of an idiot than he is when he wakes up I swear I'll make your pathetic life miserable enough to beg for a quick death,' he grumbled and awkwardly pulled the devil hunter out by wrists. First appeared scratched arms, head with some red leaks in the messed hair, shoulders, then the bruise-covered back and the jeans-clad butt. All of the above Vergil carefully put onto the cobble stones, finally getting out the long legs and feet, completely soaked in black demon blood from knee down.

'Sorry?' Lady gave a strained smile and found herself very busy rearranging her ammunition fixed at the belt of her white shorts.

A tired sigh was the answer, and Vergil pulled himself out enough to sit on the side of the hole.

'I need to get him to Devil Never Cry as soon as possible,' the older Sparda looked at his twin with worry. 'Usually it is not my concern what he does with that head of his or what he bangs it against, however you had the luck of hitting him with the metal lid of a sewer manhole right when he is human.'

The look in Vergil's eyes that was aimed at Lady as he drew himself up and combed his dirty hair back with disgust definitely said she was his object of hatred for the night, so without further talk she took out her phone.

'Nevan,' the older Sparda told her and picked up his twin, one hand under Dante's knees, another around his back, so that the devil hunter's injured head rested on his older brother's shoulder. 'We'll be home soon,' Vergil whispered softly and went out of the alley to the badly-lit street with dead shops and bind black windows.

'…we'll be waiting for you here,' Lady finished her short talk with the female demon and reloading her guns came up to the older Sparda. 'What now?'

'We wait for Nevan,' he told her coldly and an awkward silence hung between them in the orange light of the streetlamps.

'So,' Lady said, trying to initiate some dialogue – any kind of talk would have been better than staying silent near Vergil who was practically frozen in his pose, motionless, speechless and seemingly breathless.

'Don't,' the older Sparda's thin lips cut her, and the deaf silence fell back over them.

Lady sighed. Then leaned onto the wall for a long heavy minute. Then started pacing in front of the older demon just for the sake of annoying him, but Vergil stayed still, as if pushed out into some other reality.

In fact, he was looking at the letters of a dimly-lit signboard on the opposite side of the street, but was not really seeing it, or feeling the nigh chill, of noticing Lady pacing and sighing angrily.

Vergil was seeing the emerald frost-covered fir of the pine trees under the azure sky, hearing the crispy puffs of panting in the shapes of small white quickly dissipating clouds in the icy air. Dante was lying in the snow, as dry as the whitest sugar sand and it was an early winter morning. His eyes were closed, yet he was not sleeping, just lying contently, still all dirty, but unharmed. His younger twin was breathing deeply, savouring the fresh sharp smell.

The light pull that connected them was peacefully pulsing under Vergil's skin.

'Oh, Hells and fires,' Nevan threw her hands up in dismay – and threw Vergil back to the reality of the night and the wounds on Dante's body – and flung them back heavily at the steering wheel. She reached for the handle and opened the back door for the twins.

'Nice dress,' Lady plopped onto the seat next to Nevan, Vergil slid as elegantly as the sacky Dante allowed him onto the back seat.

'Fast but carefully,' the older Sparda gave the order to drive, the engine started and the Jaguar lanced towards the city center and Devil Never Cry.

Dante mumbled something incomprehensible and woke up with a viscous pain all over his body with light splashes of itch over the scratches.

'This shit hurts,' he complained into his older twin's shoulder.

'Bear with it for now,' Vergil billed at him, and the two women on the front seats turned around momentarily to see if his head was still attached. It was in place despite all their disbelief, and the older Sparda was arranging his younger brother to straddle him, legs bent and knees on the leather of the back seat respectively to the right and to the left of Vergil, pressed to the sides of the older twin hips.

'Watch the fucking road,' Vergil roared quietly, and under his glare Lady and Nevan turned back to the front of the car and started talking about the demon-slaying jobs, bars and taxes.

'Hey,' the older Sparda called, when Dante was seated properly in front of his eyes, the devil hunter's lower back resting against Vergil's arm.

'Yeah,' Dante opened his eyes lazily.

'Dante, u'kay?' Lady asked, throwing a worried glance at him.

'M'fine,' the devil hunter yawned back at her, and grabbed his twin's shoulders for support. He did not know why, but his head was spinning and even the slightest bit of thinking hurt.

"_Dante,"_ the smooth, insinuating voice called for him inside his mind and heart, and the devil hunter closed his eyes, floating on its velvet waves._ "You need to heal."_

The next thing his lazy mind could process were his older twin's lips, a chaste press of Vergil's soft and slick ones on his, dry and chapped.

"_What the Hell?" _Dante jerked, hit his brother on the shoulder with a fist once, and then realised why Vergil's lips were so tasty and slick: _"Heal. Oh, that kind of heal_." And he licked the blood that was offered.

'Hey, guys, you are strangely quiet…'

His younger brother stopped struggling pretty quick, which came out a pleasant surprise. Most of the impact from the manhole lid must have been his to bear, Vergil concluded, for Dante's head for once skipped the yelling part in favour of the practical – and delightful – one.

'Dante, answer me? - Oh!'

'No fair, asshole! I wanted Dante, too! Argh, those two owe me. A fucking lot. Hey, Lady, do you wanna drive? I was thinking of sitting at the back as well…'

'Watch the fucking road.'

Dante's tongue traced his lower lip and collected the smeared blood that he so assiduously had spread after biting his own flesh. It was well worth it, as Dante being Dante was incorrigible. Apart from never being able to withstand pleasure, he had never had any experience drinking blood for the sake of feeding, the near-death situations did not count, so the tongue caressed the older Sparda's lips and after a light smack, habitually pushed Vergil's lips open, but did not deepen the kiss, even though their tongues met occasionally.

'I thought so. Come on, lady, chill.'

'How can they do that? I mean, I don't know if I can still consider Dante my friend.'

'Write it off as demon stuff.'

'That is not called demon stuff, and you of all people should know that it is called adult stuff, and it is not meant for brothers.'

If he could, the older Sparda would have smiled. It had always been a fuzzy feeling of making Dante do what he wanted and not letting Dante know he was manipulating him into doing it. The younger Sparda was kissing his twin just like Vergil wanted, despite the promise to stay brothers and cut out all advances, despite Dante's apparent disapproval of anything homosexual, and there was no way to blame anything on Vergil. It was perfect. Actually, beating Dante up – with his own hands or not – seemed like a perfect setting for whatever Vergil wanted to get, and he would have exploited the concept and tried it in variations if just it didn't hurt the devil hunter. To his great sorrow, only beating Dante himself could guarantee his twin would survive, and right now it was not an option. Luckily, the younger Sparda was still wounded and wrecked enough for a couple of experiments.

'Relax, it's just a kiss. Moreover, it's normal in the Demon world. Do you want me to kiss you?'

'Hell no, keep yourself away from me!'

'Shy, huh? And look at the positive side of it, moving – means alive. Well, pretty much alive if we are talking about what is going on on the back seat.'

Any thought of experimenting was blown away from Vergil's mind though, when Dante's embrace on his shoulders eased, cool hands lay onto his neck, week but persistent, then pushed up to hold the older Sparda's face with thumbs while touching the short strands of his dirtied hair with the other fingers. Dante made his twin turn his head slightly to the side, and Vergil complied, mesmerized by not forcing his younger brother into doing something, but just enjoying.

'Do you think they can hear us? Dante? Hey, Dante?'

'Don't think so. Do you think you could drive so that I can watch?'

'Drive, I'll watch over them.'

'Not over, silly girl, I was going to watch **them**.'

'Just drive already! All of you are fucking psychos.'

A more comfortable angle acquired, Dante tilted his head, too, and switched from smacks and licks to just a kiss, not interested anymore in licking the healing blood off Vergil's now slightly swelled lower lip. He had enough of that damned liquid to feel arousal kicking in with greater force – a payback for holding back earlier.

'How much longer till we get there?'

'I'm trying. They are fine so far, but Dante being human can drop dead on us every minute you know.'

'Hm… doesn't seem like it.'

'You hit his head, come on, he can die of a bleeding.'

'I doubt there is any blood in the upper part of that body, actually.'

'Don't' sound so grim! Maybe that is what keeps him alive?'

With his thumbs the devil hunter touched the corners of Vergil's obedient mouth, pushed it open and searched around pointlessly, brushing by the older Sparda's tongue all the time, each touch a moist whip stroke to urge his excitement. He had somehow forgotten everything he knew about kissing. It was definitely not his first time kissing his brother, yet with every next time Dante remembered less and less about what to do actually. So he just settled on exploring and caressing whatever came in touch, which turned out to be enough, if the way Vergil's lips moved with his in perfect timing was any indication, first letting him in enough to be able to lick at the roof of the older Sparda's mouth, then pushing him out of the hot wetness, tongues sliding one along the other, then opening yet gain for a number of short and strange open-mouth kisses, when blood and saliva were smeared over their lips sloppily.

'Oh, come on, it's been over five minutes and there is still no proper groping! Is this what I get for driving you?'

'Watch the road. '

Dante's head was clearing – not that any thoughts were planning to appear there any time soon if they continued what they were doing, but the last bits of fog faded away – and he registered the slow stroking of his twin's thumb at his hip, Vergil's four other fingers pressed tightly at the fabric of his messed-up jeans and spread wide to cover most of his side, apparently holding back from sliding comfortably down to grope half his ass – then suddenly not holding back any more when Dante started sucking hard at the small wound on his twin's lip to get more of the sweet remedy; he registered Vergil keeping his eyes half open and looking at him cunningly all the way through the kisses; registered Vergil's other hand suddenly flying up to comb some of Dante's hair back and then making a fist of those strands, firm on the brick of pain, and maybe it was not sudden because at that moment the devil hunter had sucked Vergil's tongue into his own mouth.

'As a matter of fact, there is some groping, if you are interested.'

'Where?'

'Watch the fucking** road**,** watch** it! I want to see the sunrise today!'

Dante was feeling good. It was not like he was going for anything more than kisses. That argument his consciousness swallowed up unconditionally, so he just rode the pleasure wave that the process of worshiping his brother's mouth was bringing.

'Just leave it alone.'

'Like Hell. I deserve some fun. Some compensation even, for how I helped them out.'

'You tell me.'

It didn't last long, though. In less time than he expected, Dante was out of movements, and all of a sudden he was paralyzed by fear that Vergil would get bored if he just stuck to repeating things. And everything would be over. So Dante did first thing that came to mind. His right hand followed the line of Vergil's jaw to the chin, then the devil hunter pushed himself away, breaths ragged, leaving unwillingly his brother's mouth. For a moment Dante took in Vergil's look, his intense stare and lips coloured cherry, glistening and puffed after the kisses.

'Hey, guys, maybe enough already?'

'Just let them. I was pretty much enjoying it.'

He touched the line of Vergil's lower lip with his right thumb, his finger getting caught in the blood from the cut that almost healed, then slowly traced along the cherry lip, pushing with more and more force, studying as the warm wet skin disappeared under his finger and then showed up, brighter and redder, retaking the shape of Vergil's ajar mouth. When his thumb reached the other corner of the older Sparda's mouth, instead of letting his hand fall down, Dante insistently pushed inside.

'Dante, come on, this is not the way you are, come back!'

Vergil's eyes fluttered wide open and a soft sigh exited him, evident only in the hot air exhaled onto the devil hunter's finger. Dante looked at his twin, and a hot tongue that was just moments ago kissing him, touched his thumbs shyly, then licked it, then the cherry lips closed and sucked.

'Dante! Devil hunter, copy-back?'

Vergil's pupils were dilated and staring right into Dante. Burning azure, no coherent thought, just wants and desires. It was strange doing it to his older brother and not some chick. Despite doing what he usually would do to a girl, Dante got the feeling of being on the other side of the gesture.

'There are olives in your pizza!'

The small sucking sound reminded the devil hunter of a very uncomfortable pair of jeans. Just when he was thinking of ways to deal with the erection which was more painful now that he actually realized he had it, Vergil slipped down the seat and crossed his legs, which made Dante slip down the improvised slope till he was right against-above a rather hard piece of his brother.

'Demons are stealing Force Edge!'

For a moment certain that he was loosing balance, the younger Sparda fastened the hold on his older twin, but, afraid to pull too hard on the hair, used only one hand, distinctively grabbing Vergil's chin, thumb catching on the even row of teeth and prying his mouth open right next to his own.

'Your porn is burning!'

Their breaths mingled, and the next moment two hands brushed by Dante's hips on their way to the jeans' button and the zipper that was pulled down fast.

Cool air against the hot hard flesh and a light bite of Vergil's teeth somehow brought Dante out from the haze.

'Earth to Sparda twins!' Lady was singing. The devil hunter turned around to see her sitting with her face towards them, hugging the headrest, gloom written over the face.

'I was just drinking blood!' Dante explained, flushed, blood really spread across his lips and chin.

Vergil, hidden by his younger twin's back chose that very moment to circle Dante's thumb with his tongue, a silky yet heavy motion, and at the same time to close his long aristocratic fingers around Dante's erection in a firm cool hold and pull roughly, immediately bringing orgasm down on the younger Sparda, who covered his brother's hand in white stains, impossibly hot against Vergil's skin.

Dante was suddenly looking at Lady with huge eyes.

'Oh** yeah**. **Blood**. I **see**,' she doomed.

**...endo chap 30...**

There. I wa at first thinking to stop them mid-action, but Nimlinven, my marvelous beta, insisted it was not user-friendly. So there. I let him come XD

No idea what's next. It would be boring any other way.

I want my portion of review-food, ladies and gentleman. Otherwise I'll starve to death and you will never see the end of the story. Tragic, huh?

(if any1 wants to know exactly when the chapter is coming out, or to have access to the info on the process, PM. I think i am forming a personal mailing list.)

Ethan.


	31. Magic Carpet

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**Babbling**

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**Warnings:** nothin much so far

**Half Betad by Tora, overbetad by the marvelous Nim =*)**

'Dialogue'

_"Thoughts"_

**Dedicated to all those who stayed with me so far! I know I am a btch of an author with my half-a-year breaks, but well. Work and studying and RL. As I have said before my position is clear: either good fiction, or nothing. So.. I hope, better later than never. T_T**

...

**Chap 31**

**Magic Car-pet **

Dante's mind went blank with pleasure and panic at the same time. On one hand, he was terrified that Lady knew he came looking her right in the eye, and that fact, so blowing up his fragile friendship with the female demon hunter, seemed much more horrid than any demon lord, any world destruction or anything else he or his mischievous brother could ever think of.

On the other hand, and it was the light and elegant Vergil's hand, the pleasure was sharp and strong, sure fingers smearing the hot stains over the tip of his cock, making him pulse and shudder ever-so-lightly in the aftershock.

Dante carefully pressed his lips tight together holding his breath, or rather a moan or a gasp that almost escaped him as an indication of the most intense sensation in his body. To Lady, however, this slightly scared expression looked like another miserable 'I am sorry?' face, that didn't actually mean any apology.

Vergil smirked, content with himself, let his younger twin's finger slide from his mouth, and from behind the devil hunter's torso he glanced at Lady, who was hugging the headrest for the warmth of it, her short-sleeved white jacket not helping much against the cool air of the night.

'Is something the matter?' the older Sparda inquired in an even voice.

'Hn,' Lady unhooked her scrutinizing stare from Dante, throwing it at the older twin. She winced at the almost physical rejection of any possible bit of importance in her existence that, hidden not thoroughly enough, dripped from Vergil's tone and glistened in his predator glare even through the deep blue darkness. She gave up on hypnotizing the older Sparda, knowing the effort would be in vain, and turned back to the wide-eyed Dante and scolded him: 'If you can not control your own brother, at least keep him tied up in a cellar, so that the rest of the world can be at peace.'

One, two, three orange flashes of the streetlamps passed by on the way of the Jaguar, lighting up the twin's faces for moments, cutting their features out of the darkness, Vergil's smug smile and Dante's lost expression. Dante was too shocked and embarrassed at the same time to be able to form a coherent reply, so Lady just shrugged and stuck her nose into the headrest, keeping an eye on the twins.

Satisfied with her annoyance, Vergil disappeared from Lady's view, leaned back at the black leather of the seat and wiped his hand against Dante's dirty jeans, adding cum to the mixture of human and demon blood.

"_The fuck you are doing?!"_ Dante's eyes grew even bigger as he felt the older twin clean his fingers against the jean fabric.

"_Oh, nobody will notice, it's just another stain. The girl hadn't even noticed that you came, so forget it."_

"_She didn't?" _Dante's worry subsided a little. With a disgraceful: 'Ummm…' he turned his head back to Vergil, leaving all Lady's grumbles unanswered, hid his face against the older Sparda's shoulder, ashamed but too tired and sleepy to do anything about it. The cool darkness of the night felt like a shield strong and thick enough to cover the remnants of the devil hunter's pride. It felt cozy at the same time, the light breeze against the skin, which was strange. Cozy was not a feeling he got very often, especially not freezing at nighttime, moreover, being injured and wasted. It must have been Vergil, Dante concluded, since the icy smell was the older Sparda's persistent follower and the dark blue was the older twin's colour. Felt like home.

'Loosen up a bit, Lady,' Nevan laughed at her young companion's discomfort. 'It really is a small thing for the higher demons. Just a friendly healing kiss, no more. I thought you would know more, you father being… you know.'

'Do not speak of that man!' The devil twins forgotten, Lady faced her and warned the demon sharply, pointing a finger at her for emphasis. 'I killed that demon, as was my duty. And I have no will whatsoever to learn what sexual plays are permitted or not permitted between higher demons.'

'You miss a lot of fun, girl,' unfazed by the threat, Nevan gave the female devil hunter one of her perfect smiles, crimson lips glistening, huge heavy curls of red hair brushed by the wind, eyes narrowed cunningly.

The Jaguar finally entered the old part of the city, made of medieval houses, towering one over the other, forming a huge labyrinth of streets, where the traffic lights were all turned yellow at night, so Nevan drove easily, taking turn after turn without slowing down. It was not the most popular place for night adventures, and it was not weekend, so the pedestrians were rare dark shadows on the sides of the street. Or, maybe, the thousand years' history of the city made its inhabitants unconsciously cautious and they preferred to stay at home at night, especially when demons were roaming around once again.

At yet another turn, just as the black iron street lamp with a burned-out bulb passed by and the cyan moon reflection swam by in the windows of the pawn shop, the Jaguar sighed, then coughed, then grumbled and stopped, dead.

Dante's eyes flung open instantly, sleep lost for long, and Vergil could feel it even though the devil hunter's face was hidden at his shoulder. The pitch black sense of doom slowly dawned over the older Sparda, that ugly feeling of fail that he hadn't sensed for ages, squeezing into his mouth and making it dry, striking any words out of his head, leaving him defenseless and open. Last time Vergil felt that ugly snake swirl in his stomach when he moved out of their room to his own. Dante considered it a complete betrayal. And for all that he considered holy, even at the top of Temen-Ni-Gru it was not as serious. Vergil never ever saw his twin more offended, Well... till the most recent days, at least.

'The fuck?' Dante suddenly whispered hotly into his ear, and Vergil absolutely missed the moment when the devil hunter had turned his head and when Dante's arms slid from over his neck to grab him by the front of his coat and open vest.

Nevan turned the key nervously, its clinging heralding too loud Vergil's death sentence once more. Judging by the sound, the Jaguar spat out some gas in its death struggle, then shut up and spat at the passengers and their wish to go home.

'My baby is dead, Vergil.' Dante whispered too clearly, his fists tightening and pulling the blue leather of the older Sparda's coat with a typical creak. '**Dead**. You hear that, fucker?' The tone was sepulchral, Dante was stressing every word, hissing out every sound, rapping out every syllable.

'Dante…' The older Sparda breathed out his brother's name in meek retreat, but all too late. _"I didn't do anything, so why do I feel like I will have to be the scapegoat? But… it's not like I ever complained when Dante was angry."_

'**Dead**, Verge!' the devil hunter's lips mouthed intensely millimeters away from Vergil's, and Dante's glare bored him, unblinking. 'What did you do to my baby?'

For the expressive '**Whot**, Verge?' accompanied by a light shake by the front of the coat, Dante let his frowned eyebrows curl up questioningly, suddenly opening his eyes wide for a second, shining azure irises around the black pupils, dilated at night; and his mouth formed a perfect 'o', then the teeth bit his lower cherry lip for a passionate 'v', and by this very moment Vergil was pretty content with the Jaguar dead. The car could rot right now for all he cared, as long as Dante continued to talk to him in the same manner. Unlike some freeloaders, he hadn't had his fair share of cumming yet.

"_What a waste of opportunity,"_ Vergil thought to himself bitterly. There was a ton of other ways to make his younger twin's mouth form 'o's, but he had to bring Dante home and make another dozen of blood injections to ensure the moron was fine.

'It's not the point now,' despite his imagination running wild on what exactly he could be doing with his younger twin in the car and how exactly he could be doing it, the older Sparda put his palm over the devil hunter's face in the most get-lost manner pushed Dante to the side. As the younger Sparda resisted indignantly, Vergil's hand slipped to Dante's hair, his fingers tangled in the dirt and dried blood on the white locks. So Vergil pushed his brother back to his shoulder, muffling any following accusations, leveling all of the younger Sparda's importance and rage to the ground, and talked to Nevan and Lady.

'Ladies,' he said, holding in the worst snicker possible, 'I deeply regret having to ask this of you, but in these circumstances I will have to request that you help us reach the Devil Never Cry agency.'

Nevan turned around, leaving her futile attempts to revive the Jaguar, and joined Lady glaring at Vergil with a completely tired look: 'Cut the crap, windbag.'

'You have to push the car,' the older Sparda informed them without batting an eyelid. Then even Dante, finding strength to shed his brother's hand, sat upright and looked at his twin in complete outrage. 'It is elementary elimination approach. Dante can't do anything, he is half-dead, even though quite lively. I can't leave Dante, because in case he feels bad, I'll have to supply him with demon blood. That is apart from the fact that right now I am what makes his lungs inhale the air and his heart pump the blood.'

'Really?' the devil hunter was surprised. He didn't feel that damaged, but knowing his life depended on Vergil was scary. Vergil was definitely not on the devil hunter's I-trust-you-with-my-life list. Vergil was god as an ally, he was good to have around, but trust? Not now, Dante was not in his suicidal mood.

'Yes.' _"Of course not. Moron. But who cares." _'So I can not do anything either. This leaves us with the only option left, ladies. You have to push the car.'

Dante raised an eyebrow, tried to think for a moment, but found the process to be too painful, after opening a sewer manhole with his head. So he let Vergil decide.

A minute of heavy unspoken hatred and unwilling acceptance followed.

'This is universal injustice,' with the soft click the low door of the convertible let Nevan out. The demon stretched her shoulders, fixed her purple cocktail dress, gave the black high-heeled sandals an apologetic and at the same time sorrowful look. 'This is absolute universal injustice how this bastard of a half-demon makes the most ridiculous and humiliating things inevitable.'

'Yeah, right,' Lady popped the door of the Jaguar open and jumped out. She unbuckled the black straps of her guns and ammunition, took Kalina Ann from her shoulder and lay her weapons at the seat. Unlike the female demon, however, she was not angry or lazy. She had a plan. 'You do realize that the list of your debts is longer by the minute, Dante, right?' she harrumphed and joined Nevan at the back of the car.

Dante was a boneless mess and his mind was preoccupied with other problems, his beloved car dead, for starters, but he already didn't like the sound of that statement. Lady never spoke of money, unless it meant him having to pay.

'Uhh…' two female voices moaned in chorus, and the Jaguar moved slowly for about twenty centimeters.

Gathering the leftovers of his energy, Dante sat upright again, holding onto Vergil's arms with his both hands, since he felt that if he let go his head would start spinning and hurting and he would smash his forehead against Vergil or the car. No one knew which would have been worse. Yet, his new wave of rage at the second stage of realization gave him strength to blabber.

'You will pay, fucking pay for killing my baby! I should have never given the car to you, you heartless monster.' Dante ranted on, riding the wave of outrage that hit him at the sight of the two women pushing the Jaguar. 'Still, this' he nodded at the women, 'is somehow wrong,' the devil hunter complained to his twin, looking at how one pair of boobs, clad in tight purple silk, and the other, fit tightly in the frame of white cloth with thin black stripes, were nicely pushed by the trunk and nicely reflected in the polished surface of it.

'Uhhhh,' the two pair of boobs moaned and the car moved again.

'This is the right way to make women moan,' Vergil noted nonchalantly, but deep inside he was furious at how Dante was apparently glued to the two women's forms. It was infuriating. After basking in pleasure in Vergil's hands, Dante was still not just appreciating them, but pretty much staring, and a light tone of anger was lingering in the older Sparda's words.

'Ohhh,' Nevan quickly pushed the long red locks out of her face and put her hand back at the trunk. 'You are so fucking gay.' She pursed her lips in disgust.

'Whatever.' The older Sparda cut her off. 'As long as I get what I want.'

'Lady, say something!' Nevan panted, vexing the heels of her sandals in any possible way. But she was not going to give them up, so she patiently looked under her feet, chosing the solid cobblestones to step on, avoiding the holes between them carefully.

'No, I'll be silent.' Lady puffed in between the pushes she gave the dead car. 'I'll just give Dante the bill tomorrow for being his ambulance.'

'And you will just do it for money?' Nevan chuckled.

'No. I need Dante alive, cause most of the time he gets his ass kicked by the big demon bosses. And I am not so eager to take his place.' The thought made the female devil hunter shudder. If Dante was quite sturdy since he was born half demon, she wouldn't survive the amount of damage he had to take in most of the battles.

'Calculating bitch.' The demon pursed her lips into a smile in silent approval.

'Oh, am I hearing that from a prostitute?' Lady raised her eyebrows, stopped and straightened her body to look at Nevan.

'I am a dancer, for your information,' the female demon cut back, playful smile lost immediately.

'So you fuck for free these days?' Lady inquired sarcastically.

'Look girlie,' Nevan let go of the car, stood up and put her hands at the hips, taking a war pose 'Do you wanna get these two invalids to the freaking agency? Then shut your pretty trap before I find something to fill it with.'

'Verge. it's a catfight!' Dante stated happily, getting comfortable and resting his chin on the older Sparda's shoulder to be able to watch the event properly. His bliss of ignorance was that he could not see Vergil's funeral grimace. The older Sparda opened his lips and closed his eyes, on the brink of saying something very painful and hateful.

'Well,' Lady heard the comment, suddenly turned to Dante and ranted angrily: 'Maybe if we got more male attention we wouldn't be getting into fights but you are too busy with each other.'

The sudden turn of event made Dante their common enemy, so Nevan nodded in approval, crossed her arms under her breasts and waited for the devil hunter's reply to the accusation.

Vergil shut his mouth, speechless, but much content with the direction the events were taking.

'Come on, Nevan, you know I am always there for you?' Dante tried the friendly appeal. If he knew better than to comment on the women's quarrel he would be safe, but he was true to himself.

Vergil hated it all. Dante being hurt, unable to just cure him, the two annoying women fussing around. He hated Dante's naiveté, hated his habitual attraction to women. Oh, who was he kidding, it was not only women. He would have killed Dante instantly if the younger twin told him he liked a man.

Dante wasn't helping. Even the small improvement in his relationship with the younger twin somehow was completely destroyed within mere minutes. He opened his mouth to complain and curse and swear. No words came out. He closed it. For a moment he wanted to get a fistful of Dante hair and smack, smack that face at the cobblestones of the street, till the cheeks bleed from scratches, till the lips break, till purple roses of the bruises cover him, till the idiot of his brother stopped thinking at all and would just clutch at his hands helplessly. For the next moment he imagined sticking his hand under those boobs of the two women and tearing their hearts out of their ribcages one after the other. The vivid image of the scene helped him to calm down a little. But really, just for the little bit that restrained him from implementing such a tempting idea. If he could just… teleport straight to the agency…

There was a crack in the air, like a discharge, that for a moment distracted Vergil from his thoughts. He unconsciously tightened his grip around Dante's back and the next moment a dozen black and blue lightnings splashed like ink from Vergil's body, shrouded him and the devil hunter – and they appeared in a different place. They were still in the same poses, Dante's head on his shoulder, suddenly silent and most likely wide-eyed, crooked fingers like claws clutching at the older Sarda's arms. It would have hurt if Dante had the strength.

At the end of the street the lone lamp was hanging high up on the old wrought iron lamppost, illuminating one side of the street with orange light, while next to the Sparda twins the old black-windowed buildings were basking in the gentle red glow of the neon letters 'Devil Never Cry'.

The funny thing, they were in the air, cobblestones about a meter below them, and the idea of their landing worried Vergil till in three seconds exactly the car appeared right below them, but above ground. In another three seconds Lady and Nevan followed, floating in the air slightly higher than the trunk, both shocked. Lady immediately looked for a gun, expecting danger. Nevan was more worried about her shoes, so she tried to strike a pose for comfortable landing.

In three more seconds everything shuddered and they were falling down to the ground. Lady with her ass right onto the cobble stones, Nevan right on top of Lady, crushing in a tangle of limbs, the jaguar, from the half-a-meter height, a loud crash of metal, as if a whole orchestra started playing drums on the lids of garbage cans, and finally Vergil and Dante, who got the most comfortable landing right onto the back seat. Vergil let go of his brother and, putting his arm over the black seat of the car, looked around to check on the women.

'The fuck?!'

'My jaguar, you asshole!'

'Who did that?!'

Nevan, Dante and Lady started to talk at the same time, and Vergil's silence made it evident who was the criminal.

'It was a pure accident.' The older Sparda wanted to explain, but found that he had no idea what was going on.

'Whatever!' Lady threw her hands up proclaiming defeat. 'I am definitely done here for today. My spider-money is waiting for me, so I'm outta here. I'll leave your shit to you.' She threw Nevan off herself, taken aback for a moment when her fingers sank into a squishy breast.

'Really?' Nevan stared at her.

'No. Fuck, no.' Lady rolled her eyes and jerked her hand off. She got up and strolled to the front seat of the jaguar. Fixing holsters with guns in place, she glanced at the Sparda twins. 'And please, stop clinging to one another already, it's disturbing if not disgusting.' She threw the strap of Kalina Ann over her shoulder, waved at the rest of the mad party weary and set on towards the city.

'Anyway,' Nevan stood up, combed the huge locks of red hair with her fingers just to have some semblance of a hairdo, brushed the dirt off her elbows and knees and smirked at the twins. 'Not like you can stop cuddling now. After all, that is the way the blood of higher demons affects the humans.'

"_It was the effect of the blood? Since I am human?"_ Dante thought immediately to himself. There was relief, since yet another sinful moment with his brother was not actually his sin, but rather a chemical reaction of his body. But there was uneasiness as well, the premonition of the older Sparda's disappointment. There was a strange disbelief: the leather of the blue coat under Dante's hand was too rough and too real, the long white strands of hair were there against his cheek, the warm skin under Dante's fingers was the living strap of available Vergil between the sides of the coat and the unfastened vest. That the skin was slightly damp with sweat and there was a power beating under the icy skin and the hardened muscles, inside the ribcage there was a heart that was making the whole Vergil's body pulsing, pulsing into Dante at every place where they connected: hips to the inner thighs, fingers to chest, cheek to cheek, shoulder to shoulder. _"Feeling the beat of Vergil's heart can't be wrong… yet the way he wants to…"_

"_Dirty little bitch! It was not the blood, and you know it all well! The Hell was that comment, you redhead whore? I swear I will make you feel sorry for screwing with my brother's head this way." _The older Sparda threw his arm around Dante's waist greedily and pushed his twin flat against his stomach and chest. _"Just go back to the hellhole you sneaked from, you poisonous vermin!"_

'We're home,' Vergil called his brother, touching the back of Dante's head with his clean hand and urging the younger Sparda to look up from the crook of Vergil's neck, where the devil hunter had so comfortably rested his forehead. _"I just have to ignore the bitch."_ 'Time to go to bed.'

'You used to say that when we were kids,' Dante snickered into his twins ear.

'You **are** still a kid, moron. Now, let us take your sorry ass out of the car and to bed.' Vergil sighed as if the world sorrow was his alone to bear. 'As far as I fathom, all I do today is take care of that sorry ass of yours. I get you out of the mess you start, I get you from the grasp of death, I drag you out of the dirty old tunnels, I take you home, and all that time I have to drag your ass around, not metaphorically, but literally. You owe me, little fucker.'

''Kay, brother,' Dante mumbled meekly, more touched by the nostalgic scolding and by Vergil showing any care, than listening to the exact words his brother was saying. 'I owe you,' he admitted defeat, realizing that walking on his two would be too hard of a quest, and tightened his hold around Vergil's neck. 'Take me to bed,' he beamed at his twin just as if he was five years old.

Nevan shook her head with a sneaky smile and went ahead, leaving the door to the agency open behind her. She put the light on, and the windows of Devil Never Cry suddenly lit up into huge bright yellow squares, solid and bright, as if somebody cut them out of colour cardboard.

Vergil leaned over, the door handle clicked, he pushed the door of the azure jaguar open and awkwardly slipped off the creaking leather of the seat, silently thanking the female demon for going ahead and sparing him the humiliation of being seen in such a clumsy state.

'But you've grown, idiot.' The older Sparda laughed, standing up with Dante in his embrace. He quickly pushed one hand below to provide the devil hunter with something to sit on. 'You weight much more, you dumpling. How about a diet?'

'I am not **fat** you dirtbag!' Dante hit his older twin on the back, but just in joke. 'I thought you were supposed to be strong, oh the almighty Dark Knight.'

'Even the powers of the Dark Knight are not enough to withstand the pressure of your stupidity.' Vergil grumbled and climbed the stairs to the agency door.

Dante didn't bite back. He was suddenly aware, that Vergil **was **strong. Under the devil hunter's fingers was a wide back of a grown up man, who had made his mistakes, who had been through Hell and back. Maybe it was his humanity talking, or maybe it was his un-demonity, or maybe the demon blood, but all Dante wanted was to complete the circle of embrace across that back, hide his face back in the crook of the so familiar neck, and lie down, feeling how the muscles roll under his fingers when Vergil looked for a comfortable position to sleep in.

The door of the agency opened with a soft ring, and the younger Sparda knew immediately something was wrong. Again. Every damn time he wanted to rest and fall asleep, every time he wanted a calm moment, that happened.

'Put me down I need to see this,' Dante sighed into his brother's ear, despite his whole body screaming in the pain of tiredness each time he tried to move. Vergil wordlessly complied, thanks to the blue cloak not noticing how Dante's hands unwillingly slipped down his back. The older Sparda helped his twin stand up, first resting the devil hunter against his own chest till Dante found floor with his both bare feet, then supporting him just in case with a soft hold on the waist, not wanting to let go of the soft skin-to-skin touch.

Dante turned around. Nevan was in the kitchen. And the female demon was the only thing that was okay in the lobby.

'Who the hell wrecked my shop?!' Dante yelled into space. He stared daggers into the mess of books, broken furniture and boxes and knocked-down shelves.

'A certain demon did!' Nevan sang happily from the kitchen. She was evidently enjoying herself, knowing something Dante didn't, and expecting fun.

'Well!' Dante looked around angrily. His tiredness and headache being the only reasons that prevented him from storming around the place, shouting and making a bug scandal. 'That demon can suck my cock!'

'Can I?' Before Vergil realized what **exactly** he had said, Dante already turned to him, dangerously close. Dangerously, in a bad sense of the word. Broken jaguar was bad enough, the agency was over the top for one night. Insinuations were idiocy of cosmic scale on his part, and Vergil damned his inability to control himself when with his twin.

'No!' Dante cut back quickly. 'No you can't!' He repeated just in case, as if the question took him by surprise and he wasn't sure really. 'Fuck you!' he added, trying to shake his older brother off.

'Is that a poor attempt to scrape my peace of mind,' Vergil smiled: Dante's slip was as bad as his own, 'or is that a tempting offer?'

'Just-…' Dante was lost for words. 'Shut up, you know?' The devil hunter was truly disappointed. He looked at his twin and asked in a somber, quiet voice: 'You know, you fucking ruin everything that is dear to me. The jaguar, the agency… Is ruining my life and making me miserable so much fun?'

Vergil didn't expect such a serious talk. And the worst part was that it was him who screwed up big time. With rushing after Dante, then getting caught in his own illusion and being an ass when Dante had all the reasons to throw him out. Now, when he tried to fix things, and he somehow managed to save his younger brother, he still destroyed two things very dear to Dante. Dante, who was standing here in front of him, barefoot, clad only in jeans, cold and dirty, gone through madness and carnage.

In a blink Vergil was disgusting to himself. How could he try to seduce Dante after all of that? Was he such a self-centered bastard?

Dante was a simpleton in many situations and he was on the brink of loosing consciousness any moment, but Vergil's face fell so fast even he could see the evident difference. He didn't intend it to be so harsh, but it seemed that the Dante's words effected Vergil too much. The older Sparda being torn apart by consciousness was strange and wrong. Dante needed to do something about it, so he panicked and acted regardless of consequences.

'Oh don't worry,' he said in a light tone, put one hand on Vergil's bare chest to have better support, and before the older Sparda could say anything, Dante leaned in and smacked him chastely on the lips. 'I still love you,' the devil hunter whispered so that Nevan in the kitchen couldn't hear him.

Dante smirked, seeing bewildered and frozen Vergil, turned around and staggered to the staircase. At the first stair he stopped and looked back at his twin, who had mastered his poker face by now, but Dante knew his older brother's mood should have improved. 'But I am still angry.' Dante pointed his finger at Vergil, frowning, not so serious anymore. 'So piss off.' He stomped up and out of the older Sparda's sight.

**...endo chap 31...**

I know it has been ages, but

**Please leave a review**

If you care and want to know how it all ends.

I was sincerely thinking of freezing the fic this time ok? but if you lazy baterds had written moar feedback i wouldnt have to fish for reviews with threats y'know?

nah, i know im a bitch, but you have been warned

Ethan.


	32. Once a fucking night

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**Babbling**

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**Warnings:**

**Betad by Nimlinven the brilliant and ever-lasting ero-muse.**

'Dialogue'

_"Thoughts"_

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**Chap 32**

**Once a fucking night **

"_That was surprising,"_ Vergil thought absently, but the words in his mind sounded detached and so far from reality, in which he could still feel the wetness cool on his lips now that the other lips were gone. The sweetness of the forbidden fruit tasted like blood and medicine. Like Dante, who just went upstairs, in his dirty jeans… going straight to bed, obviously. In his blood- and cum- and dirt-stained jeans.

'You little bugger, freeze wherever you are!' Vergil roared and gushed through the lobby and up the staircase. He automatically clawed for the handrail, not slowing down even for a moment, ran through the dark corridor and into the only open door, into the bedroom, still in his blue cloak, still wearing his high shoes.

Dante was standing in front of the bed, breathing the cool air that sneaked into the open window, breezed across the room, over the antique desk, around the black leather chairs and brushed the devil hunter's wasted body in feather-like strokes. Dante was stretching with his back to the door, jeans low on hips, black-and-white stains in the darkness. Naked silhouette of the scratched and dirty back and the long arms up in the air, and as they fell down the muscles shifted and rolled under thin pale skin, skin azure in the starry night light. Vergil's shining cyan irises followed the intricate lines and angles, the interwoven resilient yet hard muscles forged into a perfect body.

And there the older Sparda was standing, fighting the heat in his body, having not cum even once that evening. _"Die, you piece of sexy fucker."_

Dante sighed, then yawned… and decided to fall down.

'Merde!' Vergil gasped, in one huge stride covered the distance and stuck his arm under his younger twin's waist right in time to jerk him back up and into the older Sparda's embrace. For a moment Dante's hair brushed the linen, then he was pulled back, loosing balance and falling awkwardly.

'The fuck, brother?' the devil hunter grumbled, slowly slipping though the embrace, Vergil's fingers sliding up from waist and hips by the cool skin, coarse with cuts and dirt, to the ribs and into armpits till Dante was literally hung onto his hands. Vergil rolled his eyes and sighed heavily. And still hadn't cum yet. He should have just let Dante fall down to bed, lain down over and fucked the bitch.

'Whotnow?' Dante blew some stray locks from his face with a soft 'pfft' and looked up at his twin, who apparently still had all the sorrow of the universe plastered over the chiseled features. 'Hey, nice glowin' eyes there.' The devil hunter smiled, reached out with one hand and pushed hair out of his twin's face, too, then put his palm against the older Sparda's cheek. Felt hot to his cold fingers, but this way he could see the neon shining of his brother's eyes.

'Bath,' Vergil stated in a peremptory tone.

'Wherever you take me,' Dante shrugged, hung on his brother like a ragged doll.

Vergil voicelessly swore, bent over to his younger bullshitter of a brother and lifted the stupid git from the floor.

'Oh, you are not gonna carry me there bridal style,' the moron tried to protest, but leaned against the older Sparda's chest and faithfully clutched at his blue cloak.

'Oh, yes, I am,' Vergil retorted happily. If he couldn't fuck the mind out of Dante, he could just fuck his mind inside out.

The older Sparda pushed the bathroom door open with his foot and let go of his twin literally just for a moment to push the light switch with inhuman speed, knowing where it exactly was on the wall even without looking. They both squinted, blinded by light and it's reflection from old cracked white tiles.

'Here,' Vergil seated his brother on an old wooden chair across the mirror and the sink. 'Wait, I'll bring the syringe,' the last thing Vergil wanted was to kiss Dante now in order to give him blood. Ironically, it was the only thing he honestly desired from the bottom of his heart.

'No,' Dante caught Vergil's hand fast, stopping him. 'Don't. No more blood.'

'But you have to heal!' The older twin turned around. He couldn't understand the recklessness.

'I'm fine,' Dante rubbed his head and looked under his bare feet. He didn't want to be infected by the desire and the fever. He didn't want to be under the blood's spell. He didn't want to want: lips, hands, touch, embrace. He didn't want to want Vergil. He was a mere human now, so he didn't want to lose his sanity because of the demon blood, even if it meant dealing with headache and being hurt. Pain he could survive. Doing something stupid with Vergil he couldn't. He had to wait till the blood went out of his system, to sit down, close his eyes and think what was real and what was not. 'Just… go get me a towel.'

The older Sparda sensed something, which he was not welcome to trouble, so he silently went back to the bedroom, threw his cloak and vest onto the low leather chair next to the bathroom door and opened the wardrobe. The light from the stars that so nicely lit up the desk in tender glaucous colour together with a part of the wall didn't penetrate to that part of the room, and the wardrobe door was open, casting a deep aquamarine shadow, so it took Vergil some time to find a terry towel in the darkness. He breathed in the electric scent that lingered because the object was used by Dante too often, and headed back.

When Vergil entered the brightness of the bathroom, his younger twin had shed the dirty jeans that lay on the floor, and was sitting on the edge of the old bathtub, legs inside it, with his back to Vergil, and was trying to find the right temperature for the shower, holding the shower with one hand and twisting the tap with the other.

'Let me,' Vergil said evenly, automatically closed the door behind him, dropped the towel onto the chair and walked to his twin, transfixed. He was more glad to have demon powers than he ever had been. Even if arousal was burning in his veins, beating in his temples, pulsing in his cock, he actually could physically control himself and not be erect, which meant despite all the inner turmoil Dante would not make a big deal out of it and start his typical endless rattle.

The older Sparda took the shower head from his twin, who, strangely, didn't object. Twisting the tap without looking at it, Vergil made water almost hot, but not burning. What he was looking at was his twin, who stood up. The line of Dante's shoulder, so very close, Dante's hands holding the sponge and soaping it, white fluffy foam squeezing through the sure, slightly trembling fingers. Oh, Vergil was so not looking down.

'Come here,' the older twin asked, but his voice came out more husky than he expected. Dante obeyed implicitly, turned around and let the older Sparda grab the sponge from him.

Vergil was somewhere else, anywhere else but there. He saw as if from afar as he took the sponge, as Dante threw his head back and just closed his eyes, letting somebody's hand – Vergil's hand – hold the shower and spray the hot water over his face, then at his white locks. Somebody – Vergil – put the sponge at his collarbone and one by one cleaned the centimeters of the devil hunter's body, massaging and rubbing the reddening skin with the fluffy white bubbles. Collarbone – Adam's apple – collarbone. The head thrown back, lips half-open, the long line of the neck begging to be licked up to the chin and the lips. Shoulder – across the chest – shoulder. The chest to scrape; all dirt and blood gone, waiting for the five red scratches from nails. Byceps – elbow – forearm – wrist. The strong arms that wield any weapon so easily. Fingers – one by one. Chapped, skin hardened from trainings; trembling now slightly, having been cold too long. Ribs – around to the back – shoulderblades. Trailing the wounds and scratches, massaging the bruises; pushing the dirt down and off the body. Not a woman, wide shoulders with distinct lines of muscles, the bumps of the spine, the pleasure to slide hard down their line: the back of the neck – spine – tailbone. Buttocks. The foam sliding down pushed by the spray of water, down the narrow hips and long legs, to the knees, to the ankles. He stands in the water, to the ankles, transparent hot liquid and foam.

Letting go of the ankle, Vergil stood up, now that the dirt was washed off Dante. He glanced at his twin with satisfaction, but then Dante, who finished washing his hair turned around, facing the older Sparda and demanded:

'Water.'

Vergil gave him water. The bubbles slid down the face and neck, and with his two hands the devil hunter pushed his finally clean hair back.

Suddenly it was not somebody anymore. It was Vergil, hot and bothered, in that very room, with that very Dante, ignorant and slow. The older Sparda gave his twin a short languishing look, cyan irises glowing, then put down the damn shower head and stepped over the edge of the tub. In that one step he was standing tall right in front of the devil hunter, unpleasantly wet, threw the bloody sponge down, with confident unbending fingers grabbed Dante by the back of his neck and leaned in, crashing any space between them.

The lips touched, connected, crashed, and opened. Dante's were all wet and slightly puffy from the heat. Taste of blood and medicine. Vergil moaned quietly and pushed his tongue inside.

Dante bit him hard and painful, the older Sparda jerked in shock, his eyes flung open and he stepped back, almost stumbling, moaning in pain and covering his mouth with his hand.

'You don't get it, right, Verge?' The devil hunter coarsely asked, and the fist hit Vergil on the cheek, turning his head to the side. 'Get out of here. We are brothers for fuck's sake.'

Frozen, the older Sparda didn't look up at his twin, he simply turned around, trying his best not to see Dante, let go of the shower head, that fell down with a metal sound and sprayed them both with water, and went out of the bathroom silently. It took all his will not to run out.

It hurt. More, than the hit and the bite. It hurt to be pushed away.

Vergil aimlessly glanced at the dark room. Most of his senses shut down automatically, to reduce the annoyance and sorrow, so he worked by simple logic. Dante was going to get out, dry himself with that towel and go to bed. So Vergil walked up to the bed, took the blanket, leaving five small wet traces where his fingers touched the fabric, and pulled it up, preparing the bed for his twin. Not letting go on the blanket, the older Sparda stared into the white pillow, not seeing it.

"_I am a fucked-up idiot,"_ he wanted to bang his head on the wall. _"All I had to do was wait and control myself. Control, in front of Dante. Yeaaaah, right. Fuck this shit! I should have just tied him to bed and screw him the first day I decided I wanted to."_ He vigorously threw the blanket down.

The bathroom door opened and Dante appeared, wet-haired, with the towel around his hips. Vergil fought the desire to hide his face with his hand.

'Fuck off!' Dante pointed his finger at Vergil before the older twin had the opportunity to even open his mouth. 'You sleep on the bloody sofa.'

'Alright,' Vergil shrugged, and stepped aside, letting his younger brother pass by._ "He must have decided on behaving like nothing happened… Well, better than a scandal."_

Dante stopped in front of the bed, closed his eyes, spread his arms and fell down. With a loud 'oomph', the pillow accepted his face and a mock of disheveled hair, and the bed creaked quietly as the devil hunter pulled his legs up as well.

'Log,' Vergil's even voice came from above, and the blanket covered Dante's body.

'Faggot,' the younger Sparda mumbled back without turning around. The cold blanket was warming up quickly and he was so tired, in such a need of rest and sleep.

'Good night,' Vergil's hand pulled the blanket up, covering Dante's shoulder, and Vergil's warm lips pressed to the back of his head. There were slow steps leading to the bathroom and with a soft click the door closed. The devil hunter closed his eyes and enjoyed the rare opportunity to stay in silence, alone, and just think about nothing.

"_Oh, finally…"_ Vergil closed the door to the bathroom, but didn't bother to lock it - Dante must have fallen asleep immediately – and unzipped his pants fast.

It was at this particular point that Vergil learned the full meaning of the expression 'payback is a bitch'. He let go of his control and blood rushed to his flesh, making him rock hard within a moment, making his whole body tremble in the most painful shakes he had ever had. His hands were shaking so evidently he was scared for a moment that it was the paralysis coming, his legs gave way immediately, thrashing him to the floor.

Dante was enjoying the calm, but at the same time he was feeling odd. On one hand, he did everything right. On the other hand, the way he hit Vergil in the face… he just couldn't stop thinking about it. It didn't feel right. The devil hunter couldn't say it was a well-earned hit. More like, he had been overprotecting himself. What could Vergil do to him anyway?

Vergil swore not to ever do the continence shit ever again. His lungs almost exploded, he gulped the air greedily, but when it got into his body, it just scalded the insides. Sitting on the tiled floor, clutching at the small red rug in front of the tub, Vergil coughed and tried to focus. The pain in his lungs subsided slowly as the minute stretched, the shaking disappeared, but instead the older Sparda was feeling the flow of blood in his veins, like slow lava crawling. It was impossibly hot in the room, his cheeks were burning, the sweat was breaking on his skin.

Dante liked to have the right to say: 'It is all your fault!' but… He kind of enjoyed their time together. He didn't mind some skin contact; after all, it was the only sensation that reminded him that Vergil was not a product of his sick mind, but the real thing. Okay, Dante liked to cuddle. Well, yes, he was screaming and refusing all the time. But he had an image to uphold, alright? And it was not like he hated it when Vergil touched him. It was just… scary. Different. Strange. On one hand Dante appreciated that Vergil had listened to him and got his ass out of the younger twin's bedroom. On the other hand… Dante wouldn't really have minded if Vergil had been more insisting.

Vergil made an effort and grabbed the edge of the bathtub, sitting upright, when finally the payback hit his senses. He could feel the cool air, the solid tub under his fingers. He could sense the afterglow of Dante's electric scent on his lips from back when he kissed the younger twin on the back of his head putting him to bed. The feeling of water on his skin revived, and then like a rose after rose, bloomed the memories of the hit, and then the bite. Vergil could really feel the iron taste of blood in his mouth, streams of water running down Dante's cheek, Dante's slick lips against his; the wet skin of the back of the younger Sparda's neck, where he was touching the devil hunter, holding him in place.

Dante turned on the bed and lay on his back. He stared into the ceiling, into the orange leaks. Vergil was there, right? The agency was all silent and he was feeling uncomfortable. Maybe, he was overreacting because of stress, but Dante held his breath and wanted to hear at least some steps or a conversation from below, something.

Vergil moaned, taking his cock out and stroking carefully. At first he was sure he would cum immediately just from the touch, but it was torture. His still slightly trembling fingers slid by the hard shaft once, twice, the thumb brushed the reddened head, but nothing happened. He wanted to cum, like he hadn't wanted for a long time, his cock was hard and pulsing, but the damn magic that ran in his veins was held back and now didn't allow him to find release. Vergil gasped for air, breathing ragged, and just continued to stroke, soft skin over the solid flesh.

Dante heard a moan from his bathroom. A very familiar voice, a very familiar intonation. It was Vergil, in his bathroom. And the bastard was jerking off. Dante opened his eyes wide and threw his blanket off. He was not going to let the fucker have all the fun alone.

It was an exotic torture, basking in the feeling of the kiss and sensations that slowly swam over his skin, reviving any touch Dante had shared with him. Lips, fingers, hip to hip, they were all there at the same time, holding Vergil and caressing and kissing and licking, and when the memory rewound back to Dante's lips on the tip of his cock Vergil sharply inhaled with a loud 'Ah!' and crushed the edge of the bathtub with his fingers, squeezing them into a fist, rumpling the iron like a fabric, the crumbs of ceramic coating falling to the floor.

There were pants and more moans. And then – a huge crash, a metal screech and a dozen small somethings falling onto the tiles. Dante tightened the knot of the towel on his hip and headed to the bathroom, all geared up for either a fight or a serious talk. He pushed the door open.

Vergil was sitting on the floor, surrounded by the crumbs of the ceramics. He was leaning onto the wrecked bathtub with one hand, stroking himself languidly with the other, movements slow and heavy. His whole body was covered in a thin dew of sweat. He was gasping from time to time, turning his head up, and then his back arched, and to stay upright and not to fall down to the floor, he had to tighten his grip on the edge of the tub, which made a kind of a dazzle of lines, that followed the edges of the muscles and cascaded from the hand through the arm to the shoulderblades and disappeared under the dark blue pants.

"_Okay I am not going to kill him for the tub. But I can terrorize him just as much as he tortures me." _Dante smirked, satisfied with himself. He waited till Vergil moaned again, straightening his body, and acted.

In one leap Dante tumbled down to his knees right behind the oblivious Vergil, legs on either side of the older Sparda, slipped his arms around Vergil's waist in a tight embrace and purred into his ear:

'Boo!'

'Bitch!' Vergil jerked up, but his twin's arms were holding him tightly. He was caught. And he was in panic. 'What are you doing here?' The older Sparda tried to tear his twin off himself with his clean left hand.

'You were thinking about me, so here I am.' Dante smirked and looked down. Past the flat stomach there were the spread legs, open pants and a very hard cock that glistened from the pre-cum spread along the shaft.

Vergil felt his twin's stare like a stigma that slowly crawled along his chest past the stomach and to his erect member. He was torn between the wish to put his hand away, since it was evidence of what he was doing, and the wish to close his hand around his cock in order to hide as much of it as possible from Dante's eyes. Somehow, the fact that Dante had already seen it didn't work anymore. Vergil was nervous, mortified by being discovered, and at the same time completely turned on by the fact that Dante was there with him.

"_Thinking about me…"_ the younger Sparda's voice repeated in Vergil's mind. Oh, yes, Dante was being sarcastic. And the asshole knew he was thinking about him. But of course he was!

Vergil slowly and unevenly exhaled, trying to calm down. Perhaps, he could throw Dante off. But just sitting on the floor, the devil hunter right behind him, feeling the sharp excitement, melting under Dante's intense stare was a perspective much more alluring. After all, it was not everyday that the younger twin came to him on his own.

'Oh do not be troubled!' Dante realized that the long pause and the lack of reaction was because the older Sparda was deciding on what to do. It was a win-win situation for the devil hunter anyway. He could use this for blackmail later. Vergil was caught off-guard and breaking the rules. And, well, Vergil was embarrassed. Even if he was not killing anybody or shouting, the silence itself was a sure sign. So Dante urged in a cheerful tone. 'I didn't mean to interrupt, so please, continue.'

'As you wish,' Vergil smirked, his moody brother was staying. Two could play this game. He leisurely leaned back, resting against Dante's body, curve into curve, put his free left hand at Dante's knee and threw his head back onto the devil hunter's shoulder, closing his eyes. The older Sparda parted his lips, and stroke the hardened flesh once. The sensation was somehow much brighter, a vivid strange feeling that made Vergil shudder slightly and let out a tender sigh. Oh, how completely different it was when Dante was there.

The devil hunter was studying how his older brother was caressing himself. The red tip appeared from a firm grip of the pale thin fingers, the pre-cum smeared along the heated skin, then disappeared again, till the fingers slid back to the hard shaft to uncover it to the cool air. It was like looking at something that had always been prohibited. Even if he didn't want it, there was a strange fascination.

'So,' Dante blinked, breaking the odd spell. He turned his head to the side to scornfully whisper into his twin's ear. 'I guess that makes you seriously gay.'

'Yes,' Vergil cut in reply shortly, his low and serious voice breaking down to a witching grunt, ignoring any mockery that was in his twin's words. The devil hunter's moist and warm lips were right at his ear and the whisper tickled his skin. Every place where Vergil was connected to his twin was burning, every small pull of skin against skin sent shivers through his body and made his stiffened cock twitch slightly.

Dante was surprised at the honesty of the admittance, so he tried another question: 'And you were thinking about me?'

'Uh, yes…' Vergil panted out at another stroke along his shaft, and the devil hunter could barely hear his voice. The whole bathroom seemed full with thick air mixed with the breaths and gasps, that being sharp and short themselves formed a whole prolonging symphony of noise.

It was not often to hear just the truth from Vergil. It was not often to see the Dark Knight so open and vulnerable. It was refreshing but frightening at the same time.

Dante put his chin onto his older brother's shoulder and glanced down once again. He had his fair share of half-assed remarks and sneers from Vergil, so could be a bitch and nag, too.

'I guess then, you want to have this thing in me?' Dante's stare followed the rhythmical movement of Vergil's aristocratic fingers along the hard flesh, taking in the size. He unhooked his one arm from the embrace and with his forefinger touched the very tip of his brother's cock, which made the older Sparda shudder visibly with his whole body and let out a long low moan.

Rough skin of the finger slipped by the most sensitive skin and Vergil bit his lower lip not to stoop down to a sex-driven bitch in heat because he needed to cum, needed more, and he was this far from breaking down and pleading for the touch. But his twin, apparently, just wanted to make smart comments. Well, if Dante was in for a show, he was not getting any. Not unless the stupid devil hunter finally decided to at least kiss the older Sparda or do something, anything, apart from opening his mouth that could find some more suitable functions. Oh, if Vergil could just turn around and do everything himself. But previous experience taught him all-too-well that if Dante didn't want to be forced, it was a bad idea to go against the devil hunter's wish.

'Its impossible, man.' Dante concluded. And at the moment he really believed in what he said.

Vergil frowned at the statement, that so unceremoniously pushed him farther from the edge and opened his eyes. Somehow, he was offended. The statement sounded as if Dante was not only speaking about anatomy, but everything altogether.

'Hey,' the devil hunter called his twin softly. 'Relax. I do not want to sit with you here all night. Don't you want to cum already?' The smirk was evident in the voice'Or, maybe you need some help?'

Vergil didn't have the time to be surprised. And, well it was the day- and night – of the bloody surprises and revelations. Dante shook the older Sparda's hand off his cock, took the hot flesh himself, and pulled experimentally, fast and hard.

'Ah-…' Vergil suffocated at the sensation, the pleasure tore through him like a lightning bolt, bending his body forward and making him quiver. He just had enough time to throw his hands ahead to push against the tiled floor, keeping his balance.

'What, you like it so much? My hand on your cock?' The hot satisfied whisper came from behind, and Dante moved his hand again.

'Oh, yes,' Vergil hissed, lost in the overflow of sensations, in the torn rhythm of the other twin's strokes. The waves of small shocks of each stroke were slowly piling up, becoming unbearable.

'You're too far I can't see anything,' Dante complained. 'It is payback, after all, so get up here.'

Dante's free hand palmed it's way up Vergil's chest, fingers spread widely, as if trying to cover as much of the older Sparda's body as possible, pushing him back up and against the devil hunter.

'There,' Dante hummed in his twin's ear in approval.

'What's with the hands?' Vergil gasped in between the attempts to prevent his hips from pushing into the devil hunter's hand. 'I am not your thing. Or pet. Behave.'

'No, you are my brother.' Dante retorted and in a big gesture threw his arm across the older Sparda's chest to then slowly drag it down, fingers clinging to the pale damp skin possessively. 'Mine only to endure.' And for emphasis Dante bit the lobe of his brother's ear at the same time setting a fast rhythm with his hand.

Vergil didn't let out a sound, but what his younger twin had said and done made him arch his whole body; he threw his head back, white hair naturally falling down, uncovering the lost expression on his face, the half-lidded cyan eyes shining like germs, the open cherry lips; Vergil threw his arms over his head and awkwardly clutched at his twin's back with all his power as orgasm struck him. Dante hadn't stopped his caresses, and the older Sparda stopped thinking of what he was doing, he just let nails dig into the soft flesh till he could feel it break and ooze hot liquid warmth.

The cloudy mirror on the left wall exploded in a shower of diamond splinters. All the veins in Vergil's body flashed bright cyan, like a rune pattern. Outside a huge bolt of blue lightning struck somewhere nearby, illuminating the whole agency with a blinding light, rumbling with a roar of thunder, and it started pouring.

'Ahhh…' Vergil exhaled and panted, calming down, loosening his fingers, unstucking the suddenly long sharp nails from his twin's back and letting his arm fall down wearily.

'Seriously?' Dante asked, feeling how the blood was dripping down from ten long scratches on his back. 'Again?' He had his hand over the older Sparda's cock still, and stroke it for revenge, smearing the white cum over the tip.

'Stop it!' Vergil gasped, as that part of his was oversensitive now. He grabbed the devil hunter's wrist and tried to push his hand away. He could, if he seriously wanted to, but Vergil was wasted so he didn't try much.

'Or what?' Dante snickered and continued, while his other hand easily slid by the drops of sweat up the older twin's chest to then grip his neck firmly, holding the boneless Vergil in place.

'Stop it Dante, seriously!' the older twin pleaded, feeling arousal coming back. He pulled at Dante's hand to get the strong fingers from his neck.

'Shut up,' the devil hunter laughed at his brother's poor attempt and slipped his index and middle fingers into the half-open mouth before Vergil could do anything about it.

'Uh,' the older Sparda rebelled, but didn't bite.

'That's right,' Dante agreed and continued his torture. 'That is for breaking my bathroom,' he said and with another stroke on Vergil's cock turned his older twin's head to the side, baring the neck and bit down hard on it.

'Uh!' Vergil's body jerked and he came again.

Dante brushed the older Sparda's lips with wet fingers and let go of his mouth.

'I didn't intend to hurt your back,' Vergil leaned back, unable to hold his body up, and rested his head at his younger twin's shoulder, his arms on Dante's bare knees on either side of him.

'I know,' the devil hunter looked at his cum-covered hand, then tucked his twin's softened member back into the blue pants. Then he thoroughly cleaned his hand against those blue pants.

'Oh. No.' Vergil tsked, disappointed. 'I hate you.'

'Yeah?' Dante snarled. 'Well, fuck you,' he suddenly grasped his twin's shoulders, threw the older Sparda off himself, and stood up, cleaning his knees from the white crumbs of the ceramics.

Vergil somehow found himself on the uncomfortable cold tiled floor, all messed up and disheveled.

'So that's how it is?' the older Sparda glared up, collected the remains of his dignity and slowly

scrambled to his feet, throwing the white locks out of his face. 'Alright, brother.' He clenched his fists and walked up to Dante, who glared daggers back at him.

'Wanna fight?' Dante threw at the older Sparda.

'With you wearing a towel?' Stopping millimeters away from his twin's body, Vergil hissed into face. 'Don't think so.'

'Then what?' Dante made a sour face.

He knew it was not serious. His twin's shiny eyes were a clear shade of azure, but too bright to be human. Too playful to mean any threat. Despite the clenched fists Vergil was not really offended.

Vergil knew it was not serious. Despite the things he did, Dante was relaxed, he was feeling much more open now that they were together, alone. He was looking straight, self-assured and cocky, as always, a small shade of irritation on his features, hiding a smile.

The older Sparda placed his hand on the knot on his younger twin's towel.

'Piss off,' Dante blurted out automatically. 'It's a double knot.'

'Oh?' the older Sparda looked down. It was a very tightly tied double knot. Like a knot on a towel could safe Dante's chastity.

'Why do you care anyway? Last time I checked you hated me,' Dante pouted. Oh, yeah, he was being a bitch.

'I do,' Vergil stepped up to Dante and put his hands at the younger twin's hips, pulling the frowning devil hunter dangerously close. 'And I want to kill you. Or grab your by the hair and smash that face of yours against a wall time after time till you can only remember my name and clutch at me,' Vergil whispered against Dante's lips, looking into his eyes. The voice sent a shiver down Dante's spine and the ideas somehow made him uncomfortable. 'I want to,' Vergil continued, 'hold your neck with my hands and squeeze tighter and tighter, till you loose consciousness. I would love to see Yamato go through your ribcage,' one of Vergil's hands went up and lay in the center of the devil hunter's chest. Dante's heart was beating faster and faster, and both of the twins could feel and hear it. 'And see the blade splash your blood all over the floor.'

'Verge…' Dante mumbled in a constrained voice. In his older twin's glare he could see a sick obsession.

'Sometimes.' Vergil finished lightly and smirked.

'Fuck, you scared me,' the devil hunter hit his shoulder. 'Asshole, don't-…'

'But most of the time…' the older Sparda's cunning smile widened, and Dante fell silent. The devil hunter was waiting for the continuation, but Vergil was just getting closer to his face, saying nothing. He was keeping the eye contact, but didn't utter a word.

'What?' Dante mouthed without a sound.

Vergil connected their lips. Their breaths mingled. And nothing happened.

It took Dante a couple of seconds to understand that his older twin's eyes were boring him in intense expectation. Vergil was asking, and he was waiting.

Dante liked cuddling. But he was hesitant.

The older Sparda decided it was a no, so he let go and moved back, breaking the contact.

'Alright,' he said evenly, and took his hands off Dante. _"Good things come in small portions, I guess."_Vergil opened the door to the bedroom. 'Are you coming? It's late.'

Dante didn't know how to fix the situation, so he followed his twin into the room.

'Now, get into the bed and sleep, it's been a long day,' the older Sparda commanded.

Listening to the rain outside the open window, Dante headed to the crumpled bed, but somewhere in the middle he made a decision, so he turned to Vergil, strolled up to him, grabbed the older Sparda's face with his both hands and licked on the lips, that opened immediately for him. There were hands on his back, smashing him flat against his older brother. There were a couple of steps that Vergil made, pulling him along, and they were falling onto the bed in a tangle of limbs. After that, there was the hot tongue and the lips that caressed him and sucked, there were teeth on his lower lip, and after a turn Dante was lying on the pillows with a Vergil on top of him, who was kissing him like there was no tomorrow. Realizing, that having no tomorrow was a common situation in his world, Dante was kissing back.

'That was sudden,' Vergil pushed himself up on the elbows and breathed in the air of the night, refreshed by the sudden shower.

'Well,' Dante shrugged vaguely and threw his arms around his twin's neck, pushing him back.

Vergil leaned in and gave the younger twin several small pecks on the puffed lips.

'More,' Dante insisted, and carefully outlined his twin's lower lip with his tongue.

'Oh, right,' Vergil whispered, and covered Dante's lips with his own, caressing every corner he could reach. Then he smirked into the kiss and the devil hunter could instantly feel the metal taste on his tongue.

'Hmm!' the devil hunter didn't want the blood, he wanted to be free from it's effects, so he tried to push his twin back, but Vergil was unmovable, a dead weight that pinned Dante to the bed, despite him thrashing around and beating the older Sparda on the back with his both fists, despite trying to tear Vergil off him by the hair.

The door opened, Trish walked in, taking aim with Luce and Ombra.

'I will hot allow you to rape Dante in his own agency,' she said, and pulled the trigger. A black dot with red edges formed on his temple, while from the other shot a red splash. The power of the two shots sent Vergil off the bed and to the floor.

'The fuck?!' Dante yelped.

'The fuck?!' roared Vergil from the floor.

'Get away from Dante!' Trish took aim again and was ready to shoot.

'He was not raping me, Trish lower the bloody guns!' Dante crawled across the bed, checking from the corner of his eye that Vergil was fine, and sat in her way. 'Stop the bullshit! You shot my brother! I am gonna throw you out of the agency for all I care, why the fuck?'

'Nevan said…' Trish was slightly bewildered, so she did lower the guns.

'Do **not** listen to everything that bitch says!' Dante threw his hands in the air.

'I. am. Going. To. Kill. You.' Vergil rose from behind the bed, eyes completely black, blue veins in intricate pattern over his white skin, both wounds healed, black lightnings cracking in the air around him. The intensity of power in the room gave Trish goosebumps and made her unconsciously step back.

'No,' Dante said calmly, ignoring all the demon energy, and smacked his older twin on the head. 'You all go to bed.' He grabbed Vergil's hand and pulled him to bed, pushing the older Sparda onto the pillows. Dante settle down next to him, pulled the white blanket over, happy to find only three red dots on it, and threw his arm around Vergil's torso, ignoring the glare the older twin sent towards Trish.

'Switch off the lights when you go out,' the devil hunter said to her.

She silently complied, turned around with a raised eyebrow, and walked out, clicking the switch.

'That bitch…' Vergil hissed, hugging his twin with one hand.

'You alright?'

'Yes, thanks to-…'

'Then shut up and sleep,' Dante cut the older Sparda.

'But that-…'

'Shut up!'

'No! How could she-…'

Dante grabbed the older twin's chin roughly and silenced him with a sloppy kiss.

'Now,' he said, licking his lips, 'sleep.'

'Hn,' Vergil waited till the devil hunter found a comfortable position on his shoulder and whispered: 'Good night, brother.'

**...endo chap 32...**

Yeah, sudden, I know.

No rest for you.

Gimmme my reviews, argh.

KiKa: what other options do i have? T_T well, thank you personally anyway your words were a bright thing))))))

LadySubaru: okie-dokie)

Edge of the sky: honastly, half a year. i didnt even know you people were still there. It was not really a threat but rather a real though this time. But well, works good for threats as well. U know out of over 100 ppl who read chap 31 only 4 dropped me a line? meh offended( and well i warned ppl that i am a bitchy author)

Barranka: hopefully for us perverts Vergildoesnt have any say in anything XD threesome still in sight

Darkened Dawn: dont take all my rattlings seriously) i love you those who say at least something to me! you are my only way of keeping in touch with readers.

love you guys who give me feed back. You are keeping me alive T_T

Ethan.


	33. Back to square one

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**Babbling**

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**Warnings: brainfuck**

**Betad by Nimlinven**

**Home task: count how many times you went 'the fuck?' during this chap. I need statistics**

'Dialogue'

_"Thoughts"_

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**Chap 33**

**Back to square one**

Dante woke up long past midday. The sun was shining into the open window; there was no trace of yesterday's rain. The devil hunter yawned and threw the crumpled white blanket off. He hadn't slept so well for ages. For once in a very long while, he felt refreshed and relaxed. It must have been the drugs that he was fed in the hospital, and the demon blood. Or it was because for once he was sure everything was fine: the demons were dead, his brother was alive, and Nevan, Trish, Lady, and even Vergil – none of them had a problem with Dante. It was surprisingly peaceful.

The bedroom was empty. Vergil must have gone downstairs, he had always been an early bird, unlike Dante. The devil hunter sat up, untied the knot that still held a towel around his hips, carelessly threw the piece of fabric onto the bed, and went up to the wardrobe in search of some pants. After all, as much as he liked walking around naked, there could be Trish downstairs. Besides, walking naked in front of Vergil didn't seem like a very bright idea anymore.

He found his old faded blue jeans with holes on the knees, and happily fit himself into them. The good point of drinking demon blood was that all the wounds had healed. Well, they faded and just itched from time to time, so Dante could walk barefoot practically without any pain. For that, he was truly thankful, remembering how his feet had been all covered in scratches and bruises. He silently swore to himself never ever to fight barefoot on the sharp rocks in semi-darkness.

Dante yawned again, made a detour to the bathroom to quickly splash some cold water on his face. There he noted the destroyed bathtub and smiled at the crumbs of ceramics on the floor. At least, Vergil was smart enough to clean up the splinters of the mirror.

The devil hunter walked downstairs slowly, scratching his stomach. He was hungry as hell, so he headed through the lobby right into the kitchen.

'Morning,' Trish said to him with a snicker, the half-thawed ice in her whiskey glass gently rocking in the ember liquid. She crossed her legs and looked at him expectantly.

'Hey,' Dante answered and opened the fridge, looking for food. He instantly spotted the cardboard pizza box which he took out. Oh, sweet bliss, there were three big pieces untouched, all without olives, just the way he loved it. 'Isn't it too early for whiskey?'

'No, if I hadn't slept the whole night,' Trish made a sip. 'For your information, I was covering for your sorry ass, doing all the jobs you were supposed to do.'

'Well, you could've just lettem be?' Dante bit on a piece of pizza and sat on the kitchen table, since it was the horizontal surface closest to him. There was something romantic in the taste of the cold pizza; the hardened cheese had a different taste in morning, and small pieces of ham were tastier.

Trish shot the devil hunter an angry glare. 'No.'

'Oh, byh theh weih,' Dante could even squint at how pleasant it was to just be at home and eat pizza. Blessed be that person who bought it the previous day. 'Dija see my brother?'

'Dante,' the female demon put down her glass with a loud clank and frowned, reminding Dante of the way his mother scolded him in his childhood. 'Stop asking the same stupid question every damn day. You know all well he went to the Demon world three days ago.'

'Whut?' Dante choked on the pizza and jumped down, coughing. He threw the damn piece of food onto the table.

'He wanted to open the doorway to the Demon world. The permanent one, remember?' Trish asked him in a somber voice.

'No! For how long did I sleep? After that night?' Dante put his hand onto the table for support.

'For the night,' Trish sighed and grabbed her glass again, taking a big gulp of whiskey. She needed it if Dante was planning on staying so forgetful every morning. 'It has been three days. But you still suffer from temporary memory loss because of that time when Lady hit you on the head. So every damn time you wake up you ask me where that bastard is.'

'Watch your tongue, he is my brother,' Dante warned and groped his way along the table to the chair. He slowly sat down. No wonder his wounds were healed. No wonder he felt so relaxed. 'So, he is in the demon world, then,' the devil hunter concluded.

'No,' Trish finished her whiskey and looked at Dante as if he was supposed to remember everything that very instant.

'What?' Dante asked, irritated and worried that something even worse could have happened. 'What else?'

'You don't remember?' the female demon looked grim and somehow sympathetic. It was a bad sign.

'What? What am I supposed to remember?' Dante just wanted to know already. The ignorance killed him.

'You,' Trish took the bottle of whiskey that was on the table near her and threw it at Dante. He caught it awkwardly and looked at her with fear and confusion. 'You killed him.'

Dante looked at her again and for a moment he was sure that Trish said those words only in his disturbed mind. _"That would have been the worst case. I wouldn't survive that,"_ he though to himself and looked at Trish, waiting for what she was going to say. But she didn't say anything, just nodded at him grimly.

'What is it?' Dante asked again.

'You did,' Trish said.

Dante waited for something to happen. For her to say it was a joke. For Vergil to come in. For the heavens to fall down. But just like after the death of Nelo Angelo, nothing happened. Except for that everything inside Dante's chest slowly stopped, as if his blood cooled down and froze in his veins, and his heart slowly fell asleep. His fingers were instantly very cold. Suddenly he could feel a long wound on his back that he paid no attention before, and by the painful way the sides of the cut didn't want to glue back together he knew it could be only the wound left by the sharp edge of Yamato. Suddenly his lips were very dry. Suddenly his eyes stung, but no tears came out.

Trish was looking at him intently, and the wound was hurting. But he couldn't remember. Nothing came to mind. No fight, no quarrel, no…

'I refuse to believe,' Dante said slowly. Instead of drinking the whiskey he put the bottle onto the table, untouched.

'Dante,' Trish begged in a tired voice. Her face looked older, there were dark circles under her eyes. She must have had a lot of work recently.

'I don't believe.' The devil hunter stated quietly, but firmly.

'Dante.' She was starting a staring contest. Okay.

'Bullshit. I don't remember a thing,' he insisted. Too many times people around him had done so – lied to him, for good and for bad reasons. And if Dante didn't remember, he wouldn't believe anything until he saw it with his own eyes.

'It's the i-don't-believe-until-i-see state, right?' Trish finally looked away and closed her eyes, wishing for sleep. 'I don't care anymore. He is in the back room.'

Dante shivered. It was too cold to be in just jeans.

He stood up and walked out of the kitchen, leaving the uneaten pizza and the bottle of whiskey on the table. He walked through the empty lobby, where everything seemed as usual – the books on the shelves, the devil arms, the papers and the antique telephone on the desk, the magazines and the coloured balls on the billiard table.

Dante opened the door to the corridor, and looked into the back rooms one by one. The first was empty, and he absent-mindedly noted that as a fact. He was pretty sure all of them would be empty, no matter what nonsense Trish had said. The second room was empty, and he nodded to himself, confirming his expectations.

Dante opened the old wooden door to the third room. It was absolutely rid of furniture, just the old glaucous wallpapers with simple lily patterns, coming off in more places than where they stayed glued to the uneven walls, the grayish ceiling with orange rusty leaks and the creaky old wooden floor. In the middle, on two old carved oak chairs, there stood an ebony coffin. The coffin was closed.

"_This is not real,"_ the thought beat inside Dante instead of his frozen heart. He came up to the coffin and opened the black lacquered lid. Inside, on the white silk, Vergil lay, pale and handsome.

The snow-white hair was combed back. The eyes were closed, as if he was asleep, yet the white lashes didn't flicker, the slightly pinkish lips were pressed into a thin line. The features of the older Sparda's face were languid and somehow even sharper than ever. It was the composed expression that Dante used to see during their trainings on the wooden swords.

Vergil was dressed in his favourite blue leather coat with the unsymmetrical golden snaky pattern, fitting yellowish high shoes; in his usual blue pants and vest; the silk scarf was in place on his neck. But on Vergil's chest, under his intertwined fingers was a dark hole, big enough for Dante to realize it was a hole from his own hand, that he must have stuck inside his older brother's chest to grip his heart and stop it from beating.

He couldn't have done this. Not to Vergil. He promised, promised his mother. He would have let Vergil kill him, but he wouldn't have…

Dante fell to his knees, not perceiving the pain when he hit the floor. He put his hands onto his twin's. The fingers were icy and hard, as if petrified by d... he didn't believe. Vergil stayed distant and motionless.

'No,' Dante mouthed voicelessly, and clutched at his twin's numbed fingers. 'No-no-no-no…'

It was his nightmare that came true; the dread became almost unbearable and bent Dante down, he let his head fall over his older brother's body and clutched at the blue leather. The fabric screeched under his crouching fingers.

'Verge…' Dante hid his face in the folds of the blue coat and could sense the remnants of the cold smell of the winter pine forest morning. It was almost intangible, inevitably fading away.

'Verge!' voice rising and hands starting to shake uncontrollably, he called in despair, trying to wake the older Sparda, trying to pry him off the white silk as if it could pry him from the grip of death.

Dante panted. The lilies on the glaucous wallpapers slowly opened their petals and bloomed, buds bursting and spraying cyan sparks of pollen around, the lilies crawled out of the walls, their twining stems getting out and onto the floor like poisonous vine.

Dante opened his eyes, and the world around felt much more real, the moist air, the grey cement ceiling. He must have fallen asleep. What a fucking scary dream to have. The devil hunter sighed, trying to calm down his racing heart.

He glanced around: it was a small square room, plain grey walls, nothing but a golden firefly of the bulb tired by the leash of the wire, the only dim source of light. He was lying down on a bunk under a thin blanket. Somehow, the setting rang a disturbing bell. Dante raised his head and looked at his own body. He was in plain white pants and a set of rather strong white buff leather cuffs securely tied his wrists and ankles to the bunk.

Dante would have gasped, but he found a leather strap tied over his mouth tightly. He screamed in panic and fear, but only a muffled moan came out.

'Here,' somebody said evenly, apparently not caring much; the small metal door opened and Trish walked in. 'Not much progress during the last month, m'lady,' the voice said from the corridor and Dante couldn't see the person talking.

'Yeah,' Trish went in and sat down next to the devil hunter.

'Get me out of here I'm fine! Get me out! Help!' Dante thrashed around and tried to get to Trish, but she held back her tears and just threw the dirty strands of white soiled hair off his forehead and stroked his cheek.

'I believe you can get over it, Dante.' She kissed his forehead.

Dante gave up all screams, he saw it was useless to try and talk to her, so he settled down and stared at her calmly.

'We will wait, me and Lady, at the agency. We are looking after Devil Never Cry, do not worry,' she smiled leniently and pushed the thin blanket up to cover his shoulders. 'We will wait till you get over it all. After all, you sent Vergil away yourself, remember? You had a quarrel and you threw the keys at him, and he drove away in your car?'

'What?' Dante hummed into the rough piece of leather, not understanding. Then he recalled kicking Vergil out and nodded with suspicion.

'Remember, you tried to follow him and killed two people accidentally, thinking they were demons?' the female demon asked.

'But they were,' jerked Dante and frowned, trying to get the idea to her, but she just shook her head.

'You were late at the Gate. He went to the Demon world and was killed by Caleb.'

'What?!' Dante jerked violently, the leather cuffs cutting painfully into his thin skin. 'That's bullshit!'

'I know you blame yourself for sending him there,' Trish pushed him down, stroking his forehead as if he was five years old and ill. 'But you have to stop dreaming and you have to accept reality, now matter how cruel it can be.'

'No! That is not true! I made it there!' Dante screamed, and this time his groan came out loud enough. Trish however, became grimly silent and must have decided he was violent, because she stood up and whispered:

'Now, rest,' and went outside.

'Stop!' Dante shouted, jerked at the cuffs, but they didn't tear, the bunk didn't even move from all his efforts. 'Get me out of here! You know I'm innocent, don't you?'

Trish's dark silhouette disappeared in the small yellow square of the door glass, and Dante saw two nurses pass with a patient between them on their way along the corridor.

They passed together, like two old friends would walk along an arcade of boutiques on a Sunday noon, no talks but for rare subtle comments, heads up and purses close, a dog running with its short legs stupidly in the middle. Except for these two had white uniforms and instead of the dog was an indifferent patient, stuck between the two sticks of their bodies. The patient was in a white straitjacket, sleeves tied loosely across his neck. He had a very pale face, hair shaved down and there were two lines of bandage across his skull, but even so the small red dots of where the drill penetrated could be easily seen. As he walked, the patient paid no attention to his surroundings. He just winked several times, his stare vacant, and half-opened his dry lips, letting out a thin line of uncontrollable drool.

"_This is not real,"_ Dante tried to persuade himself. _"Vergil is not dead. He is not dead. He will come to this damned place. He will take me out of here like he already did… or did he?"_

The devil hunter didn't know what was real. On one hand, he was sure that Vergil had already taken him home and they kinda made up. On the other hand, he was here, in the hospital. And they thought he was crazy. What if he was? What if all those things he just dreamed about? What if Vergil coming to save him and taking him home was all a fantasy? How sick his mind had to be to think of Vergil wanting to have sex with him? Maybe he was ill. What if he had just woken up from delirium?

"_Verge… come back." _Dante thought, for he could not say it out loud. He wanted to believe that his brother was alive, despite everything._ "...save me, brother. Take_ _me away from here. Please?"_

With that thought, he instantly opened his eyes, waking up in his own bathroom, sitting in the tub. His dreams that day had been so real, so detailed, that he believed in them. But now that he opened his sore eyes, he knew what reality was. He had just kicked Vergil out of the agency, throwing the key of the damned jaguar into his hands, and lost his will to do anything. He was sitting in the tub, coiled into a nubbin. He must have been too tired by the fight with Vergil that for a minute he fell asleep or just lost consciousness. His dream had been exhausting and as depressive, as his mood.

Dante stared into the white tiles. The minute stretched like a slimy spider's web, sticking to his cold shoulders. The white coating of the cast iron bathtub felt not porcelain, but rather emery paper. He stared at the small red spots and the rusty leaks, waiting for the icy shackles to descend onto him, like they always did when Vergil left.

But there were only the misty butterflies and a slow steady snowfall, when the white flakes floated down onto the ground into the absolute darkness and absolute stillness.

'I am calm,' Dante said to himself. The small red dots on the porcelain coating of the bathtub as well as the rusty leaks started steadily flowing down into absolute whiteness and absolute stillness. And he knew it was his mind playing tricks on him.

"_Good bye, brother, he said." _Dante turned onto his back and threw his head back, laughing.

It was as close as he got to having a normal relationship with his brother. They went their different ways, and it was the best choice. But how sick he had to be to dream about the asylum, to dream about Vergil wanting him in that way. Idiotic. Or, rather, mad. Did he loose it finally?

The dreams felt so real. All the words and the feelings. He cared, truly cared for what Vergil thought of him, truly cared for Vergil. Now with his older twin gone, how was he supposed to see to it that Vergil was okay? Yes, Vergil was a big boy, but still… What if everything had happened like it did in his dream? What if Vergil did come back? Dante smiled involuntary at the thought. He wanted him to come back, badly. So bad that he ended up coiling up in the empty bathtub. What could be more pathetic. What if Vergil rescued him from the asylum and stayed? All the 'what ifs' sounded even more desperate and painful now that Vergil was gone. Dante sighed and slipped further down into the tub.

On the other hand, the fuck? It was ridiculous. So much pain, so much anguish, for what?

'No matter what I do,' Dante laughed nervously, his slim fingers clutching at the white edges of the bathtub, nails digging into the white cubes of sandy sugar of the coating. 'You still leave me behind! No matter what I try…'

Suddenly he stilled, looking up at the ceiling. The plaster was all heavily wounded, shot through by the reddish leaks. The thin scarlet lines shivered and coiled into tendrils. Some of the sprouts thickened into buds and silently opened, spraying red dew instead of pollen. The small maroon drops fell down onto Dante, like a drizzle. He screwed his head off to the side to look at the lace of the leaks from another point. They were swaying and still growing through the ceiling, then through the tiles, slowly reaching down.

'Nah,' Dante gave up, snaked out of the bathtub and came to the sink elegantly, putting his hands on either side of it and staring into his own eyes reflected in the mirror. In his dream, Vergil had broken that mirror with his power. Dante snickered.

'Chill, man,' the devil hunter's reflection told him. 'You seem to be going nuts.' His other self frowned.

'May be,' Dante threw his hands into the air, spun around and walked into the bedroom. 'I feel like I am floating, y'know. Weightless. Like I am the air. I don't want anything. I am not… anything. I'm nothing, maybe?'

'You miss him?' his other self asked, peeping out of the glass of the open window.

'Dunno.' Dante threw himself onto the bed. The black cover smelled like Vergil. If he closed his eyes, he could almost feel the azure fleurs-de-lis grow out of the velvet and open their thin cool petals, spreading that aroma of winter.

'What are you gonna do?' the soft whisper came into Dante's left ear.

'Dunno,' the devil hunter shrugged. 'I don't know what to do. He is on his own and there is no place for me on that path. I'm lost, I guess. I truly wanted to sulk, y'know? But somehow, I don't feel any disappointment. No despair. Even if I wanted to, hurting myself is truly useless. I can't die, can't have the luxury.'

'Why not? Do you still care?' The voice sounded surprised.

'I care for Vergil, always,' velvet was warm and pleasant under Dante's fingers.

'Do you care for yourself?'

'Not really.' Dante laughed. 'Ironically, hurt… seems like Vergil is the only piece on the chessboard of life that can go on hurting me even when I believe I have suffered through it all. When I become numb, he comes back still, to pierce right through. He's the only one.' Dante let out another laugh. 'I'm invincible, then, to all others. Whoever it is, as long as it is not Verge, I can survive. Now one can truly hurt me.'

The memories faded and despite the hurt, Dante opened his eyes.

'End it, Verge,' he urged, clutching at the bedsheets in the insufferable heat, arching up under his older twin. Female body was still somehow foreign to him, but he was fine and he wanted it to be finally over, so he quietly pleaded, exhausted: 'End it, Verge.'

Caught by surprise by Dante's tender low voice, Vergil came. Hot semen – a sudden sensation in Dante's lower stomach. Vergil so close, holding him in his arms, pupils dilated, irises as clear as the fresh ice; so close, a curtain of white hair cutting off the whole world and uniting only the two of them. Vergil frowned and opened his lips in a sensual desperate call, barely above whisper:

'Dante!..'

Dante bit his lip and despite him being sure the sex was over, he embraced his older brother with his legs, hooking up the ankles and pushed him further inside as orgasm suddenly overpowered his feminine body. He blanked out for a second and nothing existed but Vergil.

'Dante,' a light caress on the cheek brought him back to reality. _"Not true, Vergil doesn't know it's me. It's not __**mine**__, he will never accept me, he never will… this is the end of me and can't you just kill me already? I want this bliss to be my last minute, not the bloody jealousy! I don't want to be fucking jealous of myself!"_

'Dante…' Vergil called, and he just had to answer.

'What?' Dante replied in a tired voiceless whisper. 'What?' The tears rushed up suddenly and welled in his eyes. He was going to cry, it was impossible to hold it in anymore. '**What** do you want? I gave you everything I got, even the power of Sparda that you wanted so much. So **what**?' He was shaking in hysterics. 'What else do you want from me, Verge? Oh, crap…' Dante looked to the side and went silent. He wanted nothing and had nothing. He was nothing, so he just stayed that way.

'Dan-' Vergil fisted his hair in terror, as he realized what he had done.

But then, before the older Sparda could say anything else, the ritual worked. Dark red letters of the old demon language rose into the air from the devil hunter's body and crawled onto his twin, transferring power – and life force.

"_It's fine. I was ready for this. I came here to give up my life for you. I just... don't want to see your pained face. Not as the last thing I see in my life."_

Dante opened his mouth to say something, but only a weak moan came out. His legs and arms fell down onto the messed-up bed and started to dissipate into red-and-white mist of muscles, tendons and bone.

'What have you done, you fool!' Vergil whispered in despair – and Dante's body fell apart in a splash of fear and regret.

"_Never thought I would die like a girl, in Vergil's arms, and with so many regrets. I imagined some demon would have killed me someday, maybe even Vergil. But I never expected it to be like this. I know I screwed everything, but why did these have to be his last words? Dammit. I just wanted to somehow fix things…"_

'Holy shit!' exclaimed Lady and woke Dante up from his dark sleep. He unwillingly opened his eyes, finding himself lying uncomfortably on the purple couch in the lobby of Devil Never Cry, filled with empty bottles tossed aside and paper wrappings left from fast food. The devil hunter turned his head towards the door and saw the girl on his doorstep, eyeing him in shock.

'What a hellhole!' She waved a hand in front of her nose as if it could exorcise the smell of alcohol and cigarettes. 'Hey there,' she called, lowering her sunglasses. 'How's it goin'?'

Dante did not answer. He just stared at her with dusk dull eyes as if not understanding her at all.

'Well… What happened?' Lady asked, troubled.

'Reminiscing,' slowly mouthed Dante. Why did he even bother answering?

'Now about what? Demons trying to occupy the human world? That morbid brother of yours?'

'Don't you dare talk in this way about my brother, bitch!' Dante snapped at her. He would have stood up to threaten her, but he was too perplexed because of his dreams. 'Don't. You. Dare.'

Lady somehow managed to get out: 'Chill, Dante.' And he was gone back to amoeba state, falling clumsily back on the couch.

'If you don't want anything just leave'. He didn't want to see her. All that he wanted was drink away the bitter disappointment. Of course, it all was his sick mind playing tricks on him. The damned dream. Of course, Nelo didn't survive. Of course, he killed his own brother. Vergil had gone astray, and he had fulfilled his duty and stopped his older twin. It was hard, and almost unbearable afterwards, but Dante had to get over it. He was doing bad, and he knew it, but…

He had dreams like that every time he wasn't high. Every time he closed his eyes when he was sober his mind would paint a new version of reality, bringing Vergil to life.

He didn't need Lady. He needed whisky. And preferably, more than one bottle.

'I'll tell you if I hear any news,' Lady gave up and turned back to the door.

'There won't be any,' Dante's somber reply cut her off. 'He is dead.'

'Dante-…'

'**Dead**. And close the bloody door.'

Lady sighed and did as she was told.

Dante groaned angrily and hid his disheveled head under the pillow. Everybody thought he was doing bad? Everybody thought he needed help? He killed his own twin brother, whom he had admired and loved all his life, for fuck's sake. And he was just on drugs and drinking non-stop. He was not killing himself, and he was still sane, as much as he could fathom. So heck, he was doing just great!

**...endo chap 33...**

Yeah, sudden, I know. Dont bang your heads or me against the wall, cause:

**Next update on 25****th**** of January.**

No rest for you.

Gimmme my reviews, argh.

Ethan


	34. Sweet dreams

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**Babbling**

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**Warnings:** fluffy fluffiness wrapped in more fluffy fluffiness. Handjob.

**Betad by Nimlinven**

All hail Nim, the bloody mother of this fic!

'Dialogue'

_"Thoughts"_

...

**Chap 34**

**Sweet dreams**

Under the warmth of the blanket Vergil felt calm and peaceful, until the pillow that had slipped from under his head lower into his embrace hit his ribcage none too gently. He growled, frowning, and cuddled up to it, trying to give it the right shape. The pillow resisted, though, and stroke him back, rather painfully, into his stomach and the next moment hit his nose, too rough and too hard for a pillow.

Vergil unwillingly opened his eyes and saw the back of his younger twin's head, which apparently almost broke his nose. It was dark around, the night still in full bloom.

'Uh, Dante, can't you at least sleep quietly?' Vergil let out in a hoarse whisper of his morning voice, but the younger twin didn't answer. He just moaned lightly on the verge of audibility and clutched at the bed sheets. Something disturbing sensed Vergil in those gestures, in how the moan didn't sound satisfied, in how white the knuckles on his twin's hand became.

'Dante?' Vergil shook the sleep off, hitched himself up on one elbow and touched his brother's shoulder. No response came. It could have been that Dante was fast asleep, but Vergil sensed trouble. It was intangible, yet it was there spilt in the night blue air of the bedroom. It was over the warm blanket and messed-up pillows. It was on Dante's shoulder in the form of a light, almost non-existent chill.

'Dante, come on. Wake up. Dante!' Vergil called, and finding no answer again he pulled his twin closer, turning him onto his back so that Vergil could see his face.

Something dark was smeared over the younger Sparda's face. It was also on the pillow, and some of it was on Dante's chest. Vergil dirtied his fingers while turning his twin and the dark something felt liquid and warm.

'Oh. No,' Vergil muttered to himself. He fought the sick urge to laugh: so many times he faced death, so many battles he had fought, but this was one of the rare times when he felt the real terror rise deep inside him; he could feel the ugly grimace of fear spread over his face. Foolish. Yet he could do nothing about it.

'Dante!' he called, quite loud this time. 'Wake up! You have to listen to me and wake up!' Vergil shook his twin's shoulders. 'Dante!'

He knew the chance of his twin really waking up was almost non-existent, yet he had to try. What kind of brother would he be if he didn't try everything when his twin was crying the Bloody Tears?

'Dante, hear me, please!' Vergil took the corner of the blanket and tried to wipe his younger brother's face with it. He had cleaned most of the blood away, when suddenly everything changed.

Dante's eyes snapped open and he screamed. At the top of his lungs, he let out a desperate howl that echoed through Devil Never Cry, and started to fight his way out of the bed.

Trish jerked on her bed, quickly threw the blanket away and stomped upstairs just as she was – wearing only her baggy green pajama trousers. _"I'll kill that bastard, I bloody swear!"_

The screams were ringing in Vergil's ears, yet like a constant heavy noise they faded into the background and didn't distract him. A strange kind of silence fell over the older Sparda, every sound was muted, and all he could hear was the beating of fear in his chest, desperation rising with every second.

Vergil struggled with his twin, pinning him to bed, but Dante found his way out yet again and again, fighting as if his life depended on it, nails scratching Vergil's arms and shoulders, leaving red traces. Dante's fingers pulled at the older Sparda's hair, tangled in the locks.

'Let go o'him!' Trish roared, kicking the door to Dante's bedroom open. She saw exactly what she was afraid to see. Vergil was straddling Dante, trying to push the resisting twin down.

'He wouldn't wake up!' not turning around, Vergil nervously shouted back at Trish, his voice cracking into an unnatural high pitch of panic.

'Fuck,' Trish diagnosed the situation, and leaned over at the doorframe. 'I'd rather prefer the rape suggestion coming true.'

Vergil finally caught his brother's hands and pinned them down to the bed sheets, but Dante was still thrashing around, looking straight ahead yet seeing nothing, trapped in the nightmare. Vergil gripped both Dante's wrists with one hand and covered the devil hunter's mouth with the other, muffling the screams.

Trish stayed where she was, motionless.

'Do something, bitch!' Vergil accused her, but she didn't budge. If a shouting Vergil couldn't wake the devil hunter up, she doubted anything else in the two worlds could.

'What?' Trish asked him grimly. 'I have no idea what in the hell is happening.'

'Oh, seems like a nightmare to me,' Azazel interrupted from behind Trish's shoulder. She started in surprise and in an unconscious gesture of self-defense kicked the demon into the opposite wall, letting a bolt of lightning through him in the process. The demon hit the corridor wall with his back and the bolt that was in his body dissipated with a white flash, burning a dark uneven trace on the oak panel.

'Hey,' Azazel coughed, rubbing his stomach with a very offended grimace and walked back to the bedroom door. 'Don't be so hostile. I come in peace.'

'I don't care how you got here,' Trish warned him, 'but get your sorry ass elsewhere, before I do it myself, kicking your lifeless body out of the agency. We have no time for you!'

'The door was open,' whined Azazel trying to justify his appearance in Devil Never Cry even though no one was listening to him: Dante was apparently insane, Vergil was busy trying to calm his struggling brother down and Trish was so obviously trying to think up a plan he could almost hear the gears working in her head. 'You din't think he could go to Hell and come back the same man, did you?'

Vergil noticed the newcomer and glared at the demon. Same jean shorts, same black flip-flips. Same ruffled short blond hair, sneaky smile and cunning eyes. Somehow, the Wishmaster irritated the Hell out of Vergil.

'Yes,' Vergil answered angrily and without any shred of doubt. 'He can! He is my brother and **he – **he** can** do that!'

The older Sparda turned back to his brother, and said slowly and dangerously, this time calm and sure, believing from the bottom of his heart that the younger twin will heed his words: 'Dante, wake up, you, or I'll tear your empty head off this weak human body! Wake up, brother!'

Without any evident reason Dante blinked, and when his eyes snapped open again he stilled and spotted Vergil. He was not screaming anymore, but his stare was somehow worried.

Vergil let go of his twin and sat back with a sigh of relief he didn't realize he was holding back, the panic finally passing.

'You real?' Dante asked squinting suspiciously, pursing his lips childishly.

'Yes, I am. What's with the stupid question?' Vergil was relieved and happy. He wanted to lean in and hug the moron, but instead he slapped the back of the idiot's head out of habit. The light feeling in his chest overwhelmed him so that he didn't really notice how he went on rambling: 'What the hell was this? You couldn't just sleep, could you? I had barely had any rest for the last days, and the first calm night you just had to…'

Dante pushed himself off the pillows, silently circled his arms around his twin's neck in a tight embrace and pulled the surprised Vergil down, successfully shutting him up with the unpredictability of the move and throwing the older Sparda onto the heap of bedsheets and limbs. Vergil obediently fell onto the bed, or rather, onto his younger brother, and didn't even give a sign of protest.

'Aaa-rright,' Trish threw her hands into the air. 'I'm out of here. And you two better not wake me up again or next time I'll bring a gun.' She turned around and faced the Wishmaster. 'You. You can take the couch in the lobby. But don't try anything stupid or I'll tell Vergil whose fault it was when his twin turned into a woman.'

'Nice boobs there,' The Wishmaster beamed at her innocently and walked downstairs.

Trish was far too sleepy to bother with a proper retort, she had her fair share of worry over Dante. But seriously, she should have stopped worrying, because since Vergil had come back it'd been more or less fine. Going crazy and turning his body into a bloody mess was not always what Dante did, yet she could write it off as collateral damage of adaptation. Now that the quarrel of the twin Sparda morons seemed over, she hoped they would work better together.

…

Trish closed the door and they were alone again in the blue dim light of the cloudy night.

'Now I need some sleep,' Vergil insisted, burying his face in the pillow, right next to his twin's shoulder. His hair spread over the pillow and some of the strands slid along Dante's face. The devil hunter sneezed and complained, grumbling:

'You are heavy.'

'Then let go of me and we will sleep properly,' Vergil offered, settling as comfortable as he could, straddling his twin and caught in the embrace of Dante's arms.

'No,' the younger Sparda cut off curtly, and Vergil mentally accepted his fate of not sleeping properly or getting into any comfortable position that night.

'Want to talk about what happened?' the older Sparda tried. He didn't want to force Dante, but his duty of the older brother insisted. And, well, he did worry.

'No,' an indifferent answer. Arms tightened around Vergil's shoulders, one hand went up and fingers gripped his hair. It was not pleasant, but he understood the need to grab onto something to feel real.

'As you wish,' Vergil said then, not to push the topic. Lying facedown was as comfortable as he could get, but had its drawbacks, the main one being the lack of air to breathe, so Vergil turned his head towards the younger twin, his nose right at Dante's ear. He was ready to say "Good night," when Dante talked.

'Just-… I can't sleep.'

'Oh, dear Lord of Netherworld, why not?' The older Sparda rolled his eyes and sighed heavily, his breath tickling Dante's ear and sending the devil hunter into giggles. There was no answer to his question, but that question was more rhetorical than anything else, so Vergil let it be.

'So what do we do then?' he asked sticking his hands under Dante's waist into the warmth between the bed sheets and the skin, slightly damp from nightmare sweat.

'Dunno. Tell me something,' Dante shrugged.

'What exactly?'

'Anything.' There was an awkward pause. Dante was deciding whether the damage of saying the thought out loud will be acceptable or not. 'As long as you keep talking it will be fine.'

'You've got to be kidding me,' Vergil pushed himself up on the elbows, and, towering over his younger twin, looked intently into his face.

'No kidding.' Dante tried to convince him. There was much more he could have said and wanted to say, but he didn't. Just stared stubbornly into Vergil's glowing azure eyes, like the stare could convey anything. It worked, though, the older Spada somehow understood both his desire to talk and unwillingness to say anything. Dante pleaded simply: 'I can't sleep now. Talk to me.'

'Not unless you let me lie down properly. I'm not your fucking plush bear.'

'Hey!' Dante opened his mouth in mock disbelief at how Vergil could ever think and even say such words to him, then threw the older Sparda off himself to the side.

Vergil snickered and rolled back to his pillow, shaped it properly, pulled the blanket up from their feet and lay down on his side, muttering: 'Come here' before dragging his twin closer and flat against his chest. Dante moved around a little bit, rested his head onto Vergil's pillow and leaned in, letting the older Sparda hold him by the waist.

The sensation was strange. Dante knew they were twins, their bodies identical, but too much time passed since they lay down like this, since he was not the one who was supposed to protect, since he could just curl up in the cozy feeling of care and rest. The feeling of how he fit perfectly against his brother calmed him down, and at the same time, irritated, because it seemed so unreal.

The sensation was strange. Vergil knew they were twins, their bodies identical, but too much time passed since they lay down like this, since it was not a small body of a female nuisance in his arms, since he knew that the person that rested in his embrace was his equal. The feeling of how his brother fit perfectly against him calmed him down, and at the same time, irritated, because it seemed so unreal.

'Let's see,' with a lot of effort Vergil suppressed a yawn, burying his face in his twin's hair. It was stifling in the room, and the usual fresh scent of Dante had turned into the smell of the heated air before the storm. 'What do you want to do tomorrow?'

'Um. Nothing?' Dante was surprised, he even turned around slightly. 'We are going to the Demon world, no?

'No, we are not,' Vergil stated very matter-of-fact-ly.

'Hey! We agreed to go there together, didn't we?' the devil hunter sounded offended. And Dante was sure he had the right to feel let down: for once, they had agreed on something and were planning on doing it together. Vergil could not walk out on him now.

'Your body is yet too fragile to fight with demons.' Vergil stated as if it was the most logical thing in the world, and with a hurried 'Let me finish!' he had to push Dante back to the pillow, when the younger Sparda turned to him to fight for his honour. 'Tomorrow, if you wish, I will prove to you that you need more rest before we discuss any possibility of going to the Demon world.'

'Fine, I accept your challenge.' Dante scowled and fell back down; Vergil's hand snaked around his waist again. 'Just like the old days?'

'Yes,' Vergil smiled complacently. 'Definitely. I'll kick your sorry ass.'

'Like hell you will!' Dante's elbow hit the older twin's stomach lightly.

'Really?' Sarcasm in Vergil's voice, normal level. 'Remember how many times you had won our mock battles on bamboo swords? You never did, you loser.'

'I am too good in real battle so I had to give you some consolation, right?' The game went on.

'Oh, su-u-u-re,' drawled Vergil, strangling his twin in the embrace. He lowered his head to speak right at Dante's ear. 'As if you could ever win. You wouldn't be able to, even if our father's sword was at stake.

You did get it the last time we fought at Temen-ni-gru,' the older Sparda added nonchalantly, as if he didn't care much for that fact, 'but I was weakened and lost because Arkham had mislead me.'

'Hmph! Let go, idiot!' Dante broke through his brother's tight hold on him and breathed heavily.

'Weakling,' Vergil teased and laughed out, letting go. He remembered how they fought at the top of the tower. And even if the reasons were messed up, it was a good fight. Most of their quarrels ended up in good fights. They fought fair yet adapted, used anything that would help them win the battle, yet never did anything foul.

He remembered how they used to fight: when they were annoyed and enraged, pushing their bodies to the limit to prove they were right; when they were lost and lonely, they fought to feel connected. Whatever happened, they fought to feel each other, to know that they were still there, still the same, the two of them. As if in the way their swords met, in the way their fists bruised flesh, there was more than words could convey, and they knew no other way to understand and accept each other.

He remembered vividly how at the top of Temen-Ni-Gru the heavy raindrops were falling down and pushed his wet hair onto his face, water flowed in streams down his face and neck, and back. He remembered Dante standing a mere step away, surprised and unbelieving when the blade of Yamato pierced instantly through his stomach. Dante's eyes then never looked down, his younger twin stared on into his eyes. Vergil could see the pain and shock in his expression; the paled lips opened when Dante exhaled and pupils dilated, a natural reaction to pain, pushing the azure irises into thin circles.

Vergil tore the sword out of his body in a swift motion and Dante was falling, still never averting his eyes. Unyielding, even in such a grave situation, rebellious even in defeat, that was the Dante he had always wanted. More than anything Vergil cherished those short moments when he could see his twin's true nature, and sometimes he thought he started all their fights just for the sake of seeing Dante like that, for the sake of reliving that connection.

Vergil turned away and walked on. He habitually threw the long white locks back, and walked, since the battle was over. He felt good, despite the leather coat heavy in the rain, despite his cold hands, despite any emotion he had had because of Dante's foolish rejection of their heritage. Vergil was sated, and almost happy, and he wanted the connection between him and his brother to stay. So when he sensed Dante trying to stand up, he turned back to his twin and ran.

Guided by the older Sparda's hand, Dante's sword went easily through his flesh and bone and with a ringing sound cut into the stone floor of the tower. His own sword, washed in his own blood - the necessary step each of them had to take on the way to adulthood. Vergil had done so years ago, but Dante didn't want to, so the older Sparda made the decision for his little brother. Even if Dante was against the legacy of their father, Vergil wanted him to survive, so without hesitation Rebellion was thrust deep into the younger Sparda's chest.

Dante would awaken, Vergil thought with strange satisfaction, and looked at his brother again, searching for the connection he longed for so much.

Dante lay on top of Temen-Ni-Gru, his power leaking out with a spreading red pool of blood. Rainwater was washing his naked chest and caressing his face, sudden drops on his eyelids and lips making Dante blink and shudder. He wouldn't move, but his eyes were staring at Vergil, unsure of what to feel. Pain? Regret? Fear? Hate? Vergil could see none of those emotions on his twin's face. It was just the two of them, Dante and Vergil, simple and clear. They just fought to know that there were still two of them.

Vergil couldn't get rid of the vision. Water sliding along the lines of Dante's body. The fresh smell of the storm, the smell of fresh blood. The heat lingering in his body after the battle. And the desire, the desire to possess and mark and violate. It was an obsession. Dante was an obsession.

'Its poking,' Dante's grave voice said.

'What?' Vergil's memories faded away, overtaken by hot, deep night reality. His obsession, the object of his desires, his twin was lying flat against him right in Vergil's embrace.

'Verge, its poking me.' Sneer, complaint and a pinch of worry.

'Oh, well.' No point denying the obvious.

'You promised to behave like my brother. This is not very brotherly.' Complaint. Unkept word more of an offence than the fact that Vergil was aroused.

'I'm not doing anything.'

'Yes you are!'

'That is **involuntarily**!' A ridiculous attempt to explain himself.

'Do something about it.' The most ridiculous request Vergil ever heard.

'I can't will it away.'

'You did last time.'

'Enduring is better than the heat it can bring later.'

'Then, go to the bathroom.' A fair and plain suggestion, so like Dante.

'And you will know exactly what I do and exactly what I think about. No, thank you.' Prideful even in such a situation, so like Vergil.

'Yeah, bad idea.'

'Yes. So I'll just stay like that.'

And so they stayed in the awkward silence. Two breaths and too much skin contact.

'It's disturbing.' Dante. Couldn't stay one minute without blabbering.

'Deal with it. If I can ignore it, you can.' If he could only just go to sleep already.

'Okay.'

'Okay.'

Awkward silence, two breaths and too much skin contact.

'What was I speaking about?' Dante. Never could keep his mouth shut.

'I forgot.' he wouldn't get any sleep anyway. Vergil accepted his fate. 'All I can think about now is…'

'Shut up! Just. Shut. The Hell. Up.' Vergil could smile at the obvious reaction.

'I'm silent.'

'Say something.' Dante. How predictably fast.

'Alright…' Low sexy murmur right into his ear. Teasing was one thing Vergil was perfect at.

'Something else!' Angry whisper.

'I haven't even started!' Mock offence, pursed lips, Vergil sighed.

Two breaths and too much skin contact. Minutes passed, and none of them dared to speak, trying not to ruin the calm, not to scare each other away. They just stared into the blue darkness of the night and breathed, slowly and evenly.

'Alright,' Vergil's murmur, soft and kind, finally broke the silence sometime later.

What came next, Dante hadn't heard for years since the times they shared one bed in their old home. Vergil started, low and gently, his voice a peaceful lulling wave in the night. Vergil started singing.

'Tell me the tales that to me were so dear,

Sing me the songs I delighted to hear,

Long, long ago, long, long ago.

Now you have come and my grief is removed,

Let me forget that so long you have roved.

Let me believe that you love as you loved,

Long, long ago, long, long ago.'

As Dante was taking in the slow melody in awe, he didn't even feel the demonic energy slowly crawl onto him from Vergil. With every moment he felt more relaxed, he closed his eyes and listened to the voice.

'Do you remember the paths where we met?

Promises made that we'll never forget

Long, long ago, long, long ago.

Yet to my love you have others preferred,

Others you gifted with love in each word.

Long, long ago, long, long ago.'

Vergil's power pushed Dante into slumber, and he could barely make out the words. He never could remember them, even as Vergil sang the song to him thousands of times as they were kids.

'Though side by side we as brothers were raised,

You by more eloquent lips have been praised,

Long, long ago, long, long ago.

But, by long absence your truth has been tried,

Now that you're here I listen with pride,

Blessed as I was when I sat by your side

Long, long ago, long ago.'

Dante was sniffing quietly in his arms when Vergil finished the lullaby. The older Sparda looked at his work fondly, very proud of himself for thinking of using his power to put the younger twin to sleep, smacked the moron on the temple and finally, too, closed his eyes and tried to rest.

'Sweet dreams.'

About a minute passed, Vergil could tell by the ticking of the clock in the far corner of the room. Then his patience exploded, he pushed the blanket onto Dante and sat up.

'Fuck this shit, bathroom.'

Vergil stomped downstairs.

In one of the empty guestrooms of the first floor where the velvety darkness of the night enveloped him Vergil stood in the bathroom in front of the two-meter high antique mirror in a carved black frame and frowned, hesitant.

'I can't believe I'm doing it,' he told the man behind the looking glass and sighed.

He had brought the damn mirror from the storage room which was more of a room for any shit that needed to be pushed into the far corner till better days. The mirror had stayed there under a dusty bedsheet, but he'd found it and miraculously taken through the corridor and to the bathroom. Somehow, he managed to make almost no noise. It would have been hard to explain what he was doing in the middle of the night with an antique mirror in hands in the back of the agency.

'I'm so not doing this,' Vergil tried to convince himself again, and stared at the man behind the mirror, who was cut by the cracks into a thousand small pieces. Those were bullet holes, he was sure, the three small round holes in the mirror that bloomed into three big buds of cracks. Who knew, what had happened in Devil Never Cry before he came.

The man behind the glass glared back. He looked strange to Vergil: almost perfect, yet there was no smile, no cockiness, and his hair was combed back. The face was the same as Dante's yet something was off, and Vergil knew even though he didn't want to admit it, that the man lacked strength. Not the physical one, and not the demonic power. The man behind the mirror had fought life and had lost the battle. But Dante, he had been fighting his whole life and was always the victor. There was no defeat on Dante's face.

_"I wish I could…"_ Vergil absently wished, but the thought slipped away. He gave up all coherent thoughts and just let himself feel the peace.

The night was silent and calm. Vergil stepped from the bathroom rug onto the tiles, cool under his bare feet, light blue in the night light, and came closer to the mirror. He leaned against the wooden frame, fingers habitually caressing the intricate lines of the dark carving, tracing the crack lines on the broken glass.

Everything around was black, blue and white. The man in the mirror looked at him with his azure eyes, and his glare softened. He smiled in the corner of his iris lips and pushed the celeste locks down. The lines were right, yet not the ones. In the tall mirror Vergil could see the man, his whole figure, standing on the bathroom floor only in his pants. He could see every curve and angle of his body, his sky blue skin. He could see years of fights and days of training. He could see how he was holding his body, aware of everything around him, always ready to strike and to defend himself. Almost Dante, but just not yet.

The man from behind the mirror looked up and their eyes met. For a moment Vergil could see in his features something very much like adoration, but then it was just the face. The stubborn face with cunning eyes and a tricky smile.

Vergil snickered and closed his eyes to cherish the moment, satisfied. When he looked up again the man was still there, still smug and daring.

Vergil gave in and slipped down to his knees and then to the floor. He tilted his head and rested it against the frame of the mirror. The iris lips of the man behind the glass were close. If only the subtle difference would fade and that man would really turn to Dante. If only the cracks that welt his lips and cheeks, that flog across his bare chest and over his shoulders would skin over and the splinters would merge.

At that moment Vergil truly understood, once and forever, that whatever twisted feeling had tied him to Dante, it had gone through friendship, rivalry, hate and lust and had been purified into the finest of feelings, that rang through him with crystal bells of care and nothing cloud ever soil it.

All he saw was a mirror. That was the closest Vergil could get, so he resigned himself. He knew that what he was going to do was absolutely dirty, yet he was sure, that nothing could distort the clear feeling he had.

He unbuttoned his pants and pulled the zipper down, the second time that night. Vergil silently swore to himself yet again never to suppress his desires, unless he had a flock of whores around.

He licked his dry lips, and the man behind the glass did the same. Arousal shot through Vergil, he bit his lip – a big mistake - and with all the willpower he had, he took his hard member out.

He had read before that demons, having not so many females who could bear a child, were supposed to be ready to reprocreate practically any time, but he never expected any time to have literal meaning.

Vergil took the hardened flesh in his hand and stroke languidly, then turned back to the man behind the glass. He was sitting down, relaxed and nonchalant, his hand moving slowly along his erect cock, chest rising evenly under the net of black cuts. He was looking at Vergil from under the messed-up celeste hair with challenge and a portion of curiosity, his moist lips glistening and half-open.

If there had been a difference, now it was almost smeared, and Vergil could almost believe it was Dante. He gasped at the wave of excitement and stroke himself fast and impatiently. His breath came uneven, he let his head fall down and in a couple of strokes he was done, the drops of cum falling onto the floor.

Vergil panted and looked up. From the splinters the man raised his head and gave him a dark glare of lust and madness, that made Vergil shiver. He blinked in surprise, and it was all gone, they were just sitting there together catching their breaths.

Vergil glared. She glared back at him.

He combed his wet hair back with his fingers and made a sip of water from the glass he was holding. She squinted at him, took the pack of orange juice from the kitchen table and made a gulp.

Vergil put the glass into the sink, still following her every movement from the corner of his eye. She was eyeing him, too, but stayed silent till he headed out of the kitchen. When he almost let, Trish suddenly asked:

'Why him?'

'What?' He turned around, confused by the question.

'You know what,' Trish sat onto the chair and folded her arms. She was wearing her pajama pants so her bare breasts were annoying Vergil, but the conversation bothered him more.

'Because I'm a narcisstic self-centered bastard?'

'Seriously?' Trish raised her eyebrows waiting for a proper answer.

'Oh, why, yes,' Vergil said without batting an eyelid. Then, noticing that sarcasm had no due effect, he gave her a tired look. 'No. Despite common beliefs, when I look at Dante I do not see myself. It works absolutely the other way round. I see him too much, so when I finally look into the mirror I see him, not myself.'

'Hm, interesting.' Apparently, Trish didn't believe a single word. 'Still, it doesn't answer my question.'

'I want power,' Vergil said, this time serious, but those words drew even more disbelief from the demoness.

For a split second the older Sparda was hesitating whether he should tell her, then came back into the kitchen and sat onto the chair across from Trish.

'True power,' he told her, as if he was teaching a child the rules of the world, 'is not just having power. It is ownership, but it's not so simple, not just possessing.

It is being able to use power. Not necessarily executing it, ever, but having the right to. True power is control, the ability to use it at any moment, and knowledge, that there will be no resistance, just compliance. True power brings the feeling like you can grasp the whole world. Like you can grasp heavens.

I want power over Dante. Even if I am the only one who truly understands it, it doesn't matter. Since I still feel it.'

'You are so bullshitting me.' Trish looked at him intently.

'I love him.'

With a loud slap Trish plastered her palm over her face.

**...endo chap 34...**

Who's your mommy? Yeah we did it in time!

**So, um, tell us what you think? Drop me a line down there in reviews. more reviews - more pr0n!**

damn you guys. over a hundred ppl the first day and only 3 had the decency of speaking back to me. Blah. wtf im burning my ass for here writing this shit. *angry*

I know I update like a bitch twice a year but uh, you remember, right? Better nothing than boring shit. So forgive me for that(

Half-demonChild17, well since it was a dream and half delirium there was no right narrative)

DerrickNathaniel, welcome to the fic! Here is your cherry-welcome-pie! I guess you were the person who got the most effect of chap 33 since you read it all in row XD now you know how I luv you readers)))

Barranca you wont believe but the 'Hell' in the title has NOTHING to do with angst in the fic. Yeah. You will learn in approximately chap 46 about that.)

ladysubaru83 now you know!

KiKa, damn, bitch, you are one of my favourite readers. I should dedicate one of the chaps to ya. I so damn love how you gimme feedback. Aght *pudding*. Now I hope after the tragedie of chap 33 you will enjoy the overdose of fluff))

Edge of the Sky you got a pm since you were the 1st review) so just enjoy!))))

Ethan


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